His Guardian
by 0nfateswings
Summary: Dumbledore sent her to protect him from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. But she may turn out to be an even greater threat if she can't control the demon within.
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, story, places, or plot pertaining to the series. Those belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters, story, places, and plot were created by me.

a/n: this story is set after the fourth book and is a revision of what happens in the rest of the series. Enjoy and please review!

**Chapter 1**

The double white doors opened and Dumbledore stepped in. The room reminded him of his own office back at Hogwarts. There were shelves of books all along the walls and a grand wooden desk took up the center floor of the office. Behind the desk sat a majestic leather chair that was obviously made for comfort. The desk had papers neatly stacked on one side and a giant crystal in a stand on the other. Unlike the crystals used for Divination, this one was black and hexagonal with flat surfaces.

What a strange object, he thought, wondering what its purpose was.

The morning sunlight caught his attention as it streamed in from the window that took up the entire back wall. The sun had fully risen and it was such a nice day. Through the window he could see little black figures scattered across the grounds. Perhaps they were students who were also enjoying this wonderful morning sun.

"My mistress is currently at a meeting. She will be with you as soon as she is done," said the man who had escorted Dumbledore to this room. The man looked to be in his prime. He was a well built, with long dark-brown hair braided neatly down to his knees and youthful face. But when Dumbledore looked into his eyes, there was something in those sphere of grey that told of countless horrors this man has seen. Battles and death swirled beneath the mask of warmth this man wore.

"Can I get you anything, Professor?"

"A cup of tea would be nice."

"Very well, I shall have some brought up in a minute. In the meantime, please wait patiently while my Mistress concludes her business." A comfortable-looking chair appeared next to Dumbledore.

"Thank you."

The man bowed and left, closing the door silently behind him.

Dumbledore sank rather than sat into the chair. It was like the weight of the past few months had doubled, pushing him deeper into the chair. His age was finally catching up to him, it seems. He was so tired, but there was so much that needed to be done.

The Order of the Phoenix needed allies. Voldemort was no doubt busy recruiting as well, in the shadows where the Ministry couldn't see them. The Order was trying to do the same, but the problem was, too many couldn't be trusted. If only Fudge would open his eyes and see the truth. If the Minister would listen to reason, then the Order and the Ministry could join forces to fight against the Death Eaters. But, nothing in life is ever that simple or easy, which is why Dumbledore came here, to the School where magic of a different sort still existed.

The people of Sorcery were a different branch of magic from the witches and wizards of the Wizarding world. Their magic was more ancient and raw than the wizards'. Their powers came from within their very souls and spirit. Long ago, they had existed together but one day they simply disappeared. That was nearly five hundred years ago. Few today even remember the stories of the Sorcery. None have every met one, except Dumbledore.

About fifty years ago, he had been strolling down the streets of London, on his way to Diagon Alley, when two women in cloaks ran into him. They had nearly knocked him off his feet. One of them paused to help steady him while the other hissed for her to keep moving.

Just then a man with blond hair and red eyes stepped out of the crowd with a sword in hand. This had surprised Dumbledore because he had expected the crowd of muggles to start panicking and run. But it seemed that they were cloaked in some illusion that prevented the muggles from seeing what was happening.

"Enough of this pointless running. Both of you will die here," said the man. He raised his sword and a firestorm appeared. The woman who had helped steady him raised her hand and a barrier appeared. At first it seemed to hold, but soon cracks began to form.

"Quick, cast a portal Isis," said the other woman. "He's breaking through your barrier."

Isis shook her head. "It's no use. He'll just follow us through. Besides we can't just leave this man here to die."

"Well than you better think of something quick or else we're toast."

The barrier was weakening and it looked like it was up to him to save the three of them. "Ladies, please take my arm," he said calmly.

"Why?" asked Isis.

"Just trust me."

Isis had hesitated but eventually placed her hand on his right arm.

"Isis what are you doing?"

"Just do it. There's not much time. Besides, things can't get any worse, right?"

"Oh alright."

The other woman slapped her hand on Dumbledore's left arm just as a deafening crack from the barrier sounded.

"The barrier's about to collapse!" exclaimed Isis.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and Apparated just as the barrier shattered. They reappeared in a quiet field outside a remote village leagues away from London. The two women collapsed and Dumbledore felt his knees wobbling at the close encounter with death, but he managed to stay on his feet.

"How did you do that?" asked Isis. She shakily pushed herself to her feet. "Are you one of us?"

"Us?"

"Sorcery."

"Well, if you mean a witch or wizard, than yes, I am. My name is Albus Dumbledore."

"My name is Isis, and no, I didn't mean a witch or wizard. I meant what I said, Sorcery."

Dumbledore suspected he had quite a confused looked on his face because she cocked her head to one side. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I don't."

"Amazing! A mortal who can teleport..."

"Mortal? My dear lady, are we not all mortals since we all live and die with time?"

Isis shook her head. "No, it's a term we use for humans who age."

"Do you mean to tell me you don't age?" asked Dumbledore, bewildered.

"Well, not exactly. We age and then we don't, you know?"

"Not entirely..."

"Well, thank you for saving our lives back there. We owe you one."

"Are you leaving now?"

Isis nodded. "We must before He catches up to us."

Her companion silently rose to stand by her side. From under her hood, Dumbledore sensed her eyes watching him carefully. "Let's go, Isis."

"Wait. Before you ladies depart, who are you? What are the Sorcery?" he asked.

A portal of light appeared behind them, blinding him. He covered his face as the light grew even more intense.

"I thank you for saving our lives and I would love to answer your questions, but not now. Perhaps, when this is over, we shall meet again and then we can share our worlds. Good bye Albus Dumbledore and thank you."

The light disappeared along with them.

It was some years later when Isis found him again. This time she was alone. They spent many hours in his office sharing their culture over a cup of tea. It had turned out she had been on the run from Redia, the blond man wielding the sword. She and her companion had been jumping from world to world trying to lose him and find their way home.

At that moment in time, they were in hiding in his world again. She said she had come to thank him again for saving their lives and before she left, she gave him a summoning crystal. It was to repay her dept, she said. If he ever needed a favor, all he had to do was say her name and the crystal will transport him to her. She also gave him a warning that she didn't know how long she would still be on the run so if he used the stone, she wasn't sure he would end up in a place that was entirely safe. For all she knew, he could end up on a battlefield and get killed.

On that grim note, she had vanished again through the portal of light.

Now, fifty years later, Dumbledore was in a totally different world and instead of finding Isis before him, he found a giant manor that Isis had told him was called the School. He had been about to knock when the man with the braid appeared and said they had been expecting him. The man had led him up three flights of stairs to this office where he had been waiting ever since.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Dumbledore turned to see the doors open and a girl with long blond hair and blue eyes walk in. She was wearing white robes but fashioned slight different than the ones his people wore. For one thing, the robe did not part in the middle but was rather a full-body outfit. For another, there were strange designs on her shoulders that reminded Dumbledore of the patches muggle warriors wore on their uniform. She moved with a fluid grace while carrying a silver tray with a black tea pot and a matching tea cup set on it.

"Hello, sir. I've brought you your tea," she said in a cheerful and polite voice. She set it down on a small table that appeared out of nowhere and pour him a cup.

"Thank you." He smiled and accepted the cup.

"You are very welcome. Could I interest you in some sandwiches?" A platter of small square sandwiches appeared in her hand as she offered them to him.

"Oh, thank you." He took one and took a bite. "It's delicious."

"Is there anything else I can get you, sir?"

"No thank you, Miss -?"

"Laris, sir. My name is Laris."

"Laris. What pretty name. Are you a student here?"

"No, but I was. I already graduated from the School."

"Really? At such a young age?" exclaimed Dumbledore in amazement. From what he had understood, the School was the Sorcery's version of Hogwarts. But Isis had said their divisions were slightly different than Hogwarts'.

"Yes, sir."

"How old are you Miss Laris?"

"Sixteen, sir."

Dumbledore scratched his beard. "I see."

Laris cocked her head to one side as if she was listening to something only she could hear. Then she bowed to excuse herself.

After she left, the man who was Dumbledore's escort opened the doors again and stepped aside as an imposing woman walked in. She reminded him of Minerva McGonagall, with her tight bun and brisk walk.

Strange how the years had changed Isis despite the fact that she does not age, thought Dumbledore. Fifty years ago, her silver hair would have been flowing freely around her instead of bundled up in a bun.

Dumbledore stood up as she walked past him and sat after she took her seat behind the desk. He heard the doors click shut but this time the man remained in the room. He moved to stand silently on Isis' left, behind her chair.

"It has been a while, Albus. Half a century, I believe, since we last met," said Isis.

"Yes it has."

"I see Laris brought you some refreshments. Did you enjoy them?"

"Most delightful."

Isis nodded. Though she had not changed physically, Dumbledore sensed her weariness that mirrored his own. These were troubling times for the Sorcery, it seemed, which makes things even more difficult for Dumbledore to call in the favor she owed him.

"I have come to collect the debt you owe me, Isis," said Dumbledore. "I had never planned on having you settle our debt, but times have changed for the worst, I'm afraid."

"Yes, for us as well. What is it you want of me, Albus?" ask Isis, her black eyes watching him intently.

It troubled him to know that he'll be forcing her to put the troubles here in her home world on hold, but there was no other way.

Dumbledore took a deep breath.

"I need your help in defeating the Dark Lord."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Morgan!"

"What, Matthew?" Morgan shouted back as she ran through the Forest, avoiding the tree roots sticking out of the ground with ease.

"Did you have to pick _those_ berries?" asked Matthew from behind.

"Well, duh, that was the reason I came into the Forest in the first place. I would have wasted my time if I went back without these berries for the Healers," said Morgan.

"Yeah, tell that to the giant plant-monster that chasing us!" exclaimed Matthew as he caught up to her. "And it doesn't look too happy either."

"Since when were plant-monsters every happy?"

A ferocious roar sounded through the trees. Morgan and Matthew picked up the pace but the roar was slowly getting louder.

"Ah crap, he's gaining on us."

"Jeez, I don't know what the big deal is. It's just a few berries," muttered Morgan, glancing back to see the bushes rattling behind them.

"A few berries? Those were the plants' eggs! Now Mama Plant was her babies back."

"You sound like you actually care about these man-eating plants. Or have you forgotten, these plants have been killing and eating countless travelers for centuries. A few dozen berries won't cause the whole species to become extinct. Besides, they heal burns very quickly."

"Yeah but –"

"Oh, quit your whining Matt. Besides, I think we lost it." Morgan skidded to a stop to listen. "Yup, it's gone."

Matthew shook his head. "You are way too at ease in this damn Forest."

Morgan smiled. "Well, I've gotta do something with my free time after we graduated from the School and everything. Besides, it's summer break."

"Don't you still have homework to do? I could've sworn Isis gave you a whole stack of books to read as a post-graduate assignment."

Morgan waved her hand dismissingly. "That can wait. I'm a fast reader so I'll have it done by tonight." She readjusted the basket on her arm. There were three dozen shiny black berries in it and the only reason they hadn't spilled while Morgan was running was because she had put a shield around the basket.

"All right, let's head back before –"

A rustling was the only warning before Morgan had her feet literally pulled out from under her.

"Wahh!!!" The basket of berries fell to the ground as she was lifted into the air.

Morgan looked up to see vines wrapped around her ankles. The vines had come from the plant-monster that she had thought they'd escaped. It must have snuck up on them while they were chatting. It was made entirely of vines that tangled together to form a creature with four legs and beady glowing red eyes. It was about six feet tall and it looked really angry.

To her left, she could see Matthew pulling out his sword to cut the vines. Morgan reached into her white robes' sleeve and pulled out her dagger, which she used to free herself. She managed to free one leg but before she could finish cutting the vines, the creature started swinging her around like a rag doll. She lost her grip on her dagger and it went flying into the Forest somewhere.

"Matthew! Do something!"

Matthew dodged the vines the monster sent his way as he leaped into the air and cut the vines that held her up. Morgan fell and was about to smash her head into the forest floor when she used her powers to phase into her own shadow and disappeared.

Matthew movements were a blur as he ran up to the monster and sliced the creature in half with one swing. The monster collapsed, its body lying in two.

Matthew let out a sigh of relief. "Morgan?"he called.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I screwed that one up, didn't I?" said Morgan as she rose out of his shadow. "I should have seen that coming."

She looked a bit tousled - her long black hair was a complete mess – but overall she seemed fine to him.

Matthew let out another sigh of relief. "Let's just go back to the School before anything else decides to come and have another go at us."

Morgan nodded in agreement and was picking up her basket when she caught a glimpse of movement to her right. She looked to see the two body halves getting up and fusing together.

"Shit." She jumped away just as a wave of vines shot at her. "Matthew, watch out!"

But it was too late. Matthew was thrown into the trunk of a nearby tree and fell to the ground, motionless.

"Matthew!"

Another vine slammed into Morgan and bounded her arms to her side.

"Shit!" It was squeezing her so tightly, she couldn't breathe.

_Damn it. They were going to die here and it was going to be all her fault. When will she learn to not involve others whenever she did something stupid? Damn it all, it was all her fault. All her fault!_

The creature was about to open its mouth to devour her when she felt a familiar and chilling presence rush through her body. She tried to suppress it but to no avail. Her consciousness was pulled aside as something darker and malicious took over.

Her body moved on its own accord and broke free of the vines with ease. She landed in a crouch position and with god-like speed, she ran up and ripped the creature in half with her bare hands – or so she thought. When she glanced down, there were black claws of darkness encompassing her hands.

_Oh no!_

She tried to stop herself but her body wouldn't listen. She proceeded in viciously ripping the remains into thousands of pieces. The demon inside her was blood-thirsty and was ruthlessly enjoying the carnage.

"Let's see you revive yourself after that!" said the demon.

"Morgan?" called Matthew weakly.

Somehow, his feeble voice broke through to Morgan. The demon's hold shattered and she was able to regain control of her body. She stumbled as she rushed to his side.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked as he slowly got up and massaged the back of his head.

"Urgh, I think I hit my head on something…" He looked up and gasped.

"What?! Is the monster back?" Morgan looked back to see if the it had somehow revived again, but it was still lying in pieces. Nothing moved.

"Your eyes…"

"Huh?"

"One of them is pink… like amethyst." He lifted his hand and a mirror appeared floating in midair. "See for yourself."

Morgan took the mirror and gaped in horror. Her right eye was pink while her left one was green. This had never happened to her before. Usually when the demon took over, she just felt nauseous and dizzy. But this time she felt perfectly fine.

"What's happening to me, Matt?"

"You're demon is getting stronger within you. Ransho told me that when a physical part of the host changes, it means the demon is now residing in the part that it's managed to take hold of. It's now closer to the surface than ever." Matthew sat and massaged his head. "I think you better go talk to him… and probably Isis too."

Morgan sighed and sat down next to him.

"There's a demon inside me just because I don't have a spirit beast. Why don't I have one like you and Laris?"

Matthew shrugged. "I don't know. You're the only Sorcery to graduate from the School without having a spirit beast. Didn't you ever ask Isis why you don't have one?"

Morgan nodded. "But she didn't really answer me. She just told me to be patient and that my spirit beast will emerge from my soul someday." She sighed. "I hate waiting."

Matthew patted her shoulder with sympathy. "Well, your eye is back to normal if that helps. Come on, let's head back to the School. It's almost time for lunch."

Ten minutes later, they had reached the edge of the Forest. Morgan could just barely make out the black iron gates that surrounded the School in the distance.

"Hey, we're home!"

"Thank god," muttered Matthew. He glanced ahead and paused. "Hey, is that Laris I see at the gates?"

"Huh?" Morgan looked closer and saw her friend's long blond hair waving in the wind. "It is! And Bane's there too. I wonder what's up."

They hurried to meet up with Laris. Beside her sat a black wolf, who bounded forward to greet Matthew as they approached.

"Finally! What took you guys so long? I was beginning to worry," said Laris.

"You two were in the Forest for far too long," said Bane. Bane was Matthew's spirit beast and like all spirit beasts, he communicated with his mind.

"We ran into a bit of er, trouble," explained Morgan.

Matthew snorted and rolled his brown eyes.

"Yes I can tell by the look of you two. You have some leaves in your hair, by the way, Matthew," said Laris.

"Oh." Matthew shook his head like a dog and the leaves fell out of his light brown hair. "Thanks Laris."

Just then a yellow canary flew over the gates and flew in circles above the group tweeting urgently, "Laris, the three of you are summoned to Isis' office right now! She says it's urgent."

"Thanks Leita." Laris extended her hand out and the canary landed on her index finger.

Morgan felt a twinge of jealousy that always hit her whenever she say her two best friends with their spirit beasts. She just didn't understand why she didn't have one.

"Better get going before we get scolded," said Morgan. She turned and pushed open the black gates without looking back to see if the others were following her.

She was in the lead the whole way there, determined to not see Bane or Leita and hating herself for feeling envious of her friends. She marched up three flights of stairs without pause, and nearly forgot to knock before she pushed open the double doors leading to Isis' office.

"Well, it's about time," said Isis, who was sitting behind her desk with a scowl on her face. Behind her stood Ransho, with his long brown braid as impeccably neat as always. "You've dallied too long in the Forest, Morgan. You are neglecting your studies."

"My apologies, Mistress. I had planned to return sooner but I encountered some obstacles on the way back." Morgan bowed as the other two entered the room.

"You are forgiven. Now take your seats, all of you."

Three chairs appeared and they sat down while Bane rested by Matt's feet and Leita on Laris' shoulder.

"I've summoned the three of you here because I need to brief you on a new assignment I am giving out. Only one of you will be given this assignment so listen up. An old friend of mine has called in a favor and I am compelled to fulfill it. Unfortunately, due to the disarray our people have fallen into, I cannot leave our world at this time. So I am entrusting one of you to fulfill this task for me.

The three of you are the next generation of leaders our Sorcery will look to. Naturally, you have all begun your training in your respected trade, and I expect whoever is chosen for this assignment to continue in his or her studies while gone."

"Damn, and here I thought I'd get a vacation for once," muttered Matthew.

"A vacation? Why Matthew, I do believe since the first day you began your studies here you were on vacation," said Ransho in warm, teasing voice.

"Eh heh heh." Matthew smiled good naturedly. "Well what's life without a bit of relaxation?"

Isis cleared her throat. "As I was saying, the assignment is to protect this boy from the dark wizards called Death Eaters."

An image appeared before them of a boy with messy black hair, glasses, and green eyes. He looked to be around their age, give or take a few years. He was a scrawny looking kid and he was wearing baggy clothes that looked like they were three sizes too big.

"So you want one of us to baby-sit him?" asked Matthew with a frown. "What's so special about him anyways?"

Morgan looked closely at the image of the boy. "Hmm… is it just me, or does that scar on his forehead resemble a lightning bolt?"

"Yes it does," replied Isis. "I was informed that this boy is the key to defeating the Death Eaters and their leader. The assignment is for one of you to go to the school where this boy spends his time learning magic and to protect him with your life."

"School? Do you mean to say, Mistress, that one of us will have to attend this school of his as well? And what kind of magic is this mortal learning?" asked Laris.

"Precisely. Their magic is a different branch of magic. It requires a wand while ours are drawn from the soul. But do not look lightly on them. Their numbers are many while we are so few and scattered," said Isis.

"Well, as much as I like the opportunity to go to another world, I'm out. I was never very good at magic. That's why I've apprenticed to be the Steward with Ransho. We don't have to do any complicated magic – just sword work and fighting."

Ransho smiled. "Well, Matthew, in that case let us take training to a new level. I'll be expecting you on the grounds tomorrow morning before dawn."

Matthew groaned. "Damn it all. Do we have to start at the most un-godly hour of the day?"

"I am afraid so, Matthew. Come along."

Matthew groaned again and got up. Bane rolled his golden eyes, and got up to follow them out of the door.

Laris chuckled and returned her attention to Isis. "I'm afraid I will have to decline too. Body guard is not my area of expertise. While I am the best at scrying among the three of us and can put up a barrier against any attack, I feel I am not suited for off-world assignments. I'm a healer not a fighter."

"I understand, Laris. Of the three of you, you were the one I least expected to take on this assignment. You already have your hands full with your Scry-Web studies on top of your Healer studies. You are dismissed."

Laris bowed and she left with Leita on her shoulder, twittering on about what they were going to have for lunch.

That left Morgan and Isis alone in the room.

"So it seems this assignment falls to you, Morgan," said Isis. "Are you ready?"

Morgan sighed. "I don't have much of a choice, now do I, Mistress? But I am your apprentice after all so I guess it makes sense that I take on this assignment."

"Morgan. It's true you are my heir who will one day become the leader of our people in my place and that this will be a good experience to train you in dealing with other worlds, but that is not the reason you should take this assignment. I believe this assignment can help you find the answers you seek." Isis paused and closed her eyes. "I sense great turmoil within you, Morgan."

Morgan nodded."Lately, I've been having trouble with the demon inside me. Like today, we were attacked in the Forest and the demon took control of me. It ripped the plant creature into hundreds of pieces, and when I finally reverted by to my normal self, my right eye had turned pink."

Isis reminded silent and she mused over this. "That is troubling news. I do not know how to solve this. The demon inside you exists because you do not have a spirit beast, which, as a representation of your soul, is supposed guide you through life."

"But why –"

"I can't answer that. You've asked me many times over the years, but I cannot give you the answers you seek," said Isis with regret in her voice.

"I feel so alone and isolated whenever I see Laris and Matt with their spirit beasts. It's like I'm an outsider in my own home." Morgan sighed.

"Perhaps it is a good thing you will be away from here. This assignment might help you take your mind off these things. I still believe that, with time, your spirit beast will emerge. You are still young. Wait a few more years until you've fully matured. Laris and Matthew are older than you, so naturally they would obtain their spirit beast before you," said Isis with sympathy. "The arrangements have already been made. You will be staying in a house of your own for the rest of the summer and attend Hogwarts in the fall."

"Hold on. How long is this assignment supposed to take?" asked Morgan, bewildered that she would have to cut short her summer break so soon.

"Until the danger has passed for the boy. It could take days or months or even years. Who knows. It's up to Fate to determine what lies ahead for their world," said Isis. "I suggest you start packing. I will inform you of more details once they have been finalized."

Morgan rose and bowed before she turned to leave.

"And Morgan."

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Be careful in that world. I sense dark times are ahead for them and that could affect how your demon reacts. Contain your emotions. They feed your demon and give it strength."

Morgan nodded, "Thank you, Mistress Isis. I will keep that in mind."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Three months later….._

Morgan watched in amazement as the bricks behind the Leaky Cauldron rearranged themselves into an archway, revealing a street bustling with life. Shops lined both sides of the street with windows full of fascinating objects. Morgan kept twisting her head side to side, trying to see everything at once.

What amazing products these mortal shops sold!

Some shops had cauldrons stacked outside their doors with a wide variety of sizes and color. Other shops showcased robes of the latest style and colors. There were even a few shops with animals in the windows. Morgan felt a twinge of jealousy as she was reminded of Matthew's and Laris' spirit beasts.

And speaking of which, Laris was lagging behind, mesmerized by the Wizarding street known as Diagon Alley. Leita was barely hanging onto Laris' shoulder as Laris kept spinning around and examining all the shops.

_Do wizards also have spirit beasts?_ wondered Morgan. _So much for this assignment taking my mind off them._

Morgan glanced up to see the old man who was leading them waiting patiently for them to stop gaping. He was a strange fellow. At first glance, he looked like a gentle old man with a white hair, a long beard, and sparkling blue eyes. He wore half-moon spectacles and a long purple robe. But if Morgan used her mind to peer under the surface of his, she sensed he had a power few in this world possessed.

"I see you two are enjoying yourselves," he said with an amused smile on his face.

"It's amazing, isn't Morgan," said Laris excitedly. "I didn't know you mortals had so many interesting instruments, Professor. And there are so many of you! We can barely populate a city but your people are scatter and thriving all over your world."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "Thank you Laris. But I feel your people have much to offer as well. Have you made the necessary arrangement with Gringotts, Morgan?"

Morgan nodded. "My account has been set up and I already have the gold to pay for my school supplies in my bag."

"Splendid. Shall we go and purchase your school robes?"

Morgan and Laris followed Dumbledore to a shop called Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Morgan and Laris hung back as Dumbledore greeted Madame Malkin, who was a squat old woman dressed in a bluish-purple robe. After a minute of chatter, Dumbledore motioned for Morgan to come forward.

"Well, hello dear. Dumbledore has just informed me you will be attending Hogwarts for the first time. Better take off that sweater, dear. Wouldn't want your robes to turn out too big for you, now do we?"

Morgan pulled off her white turtle-neck and stepped onto the stool as instructed. Madame Malkin then tossed a black robe over her and began to pin the sides to fit her better.

As she worked she chatted with Dumbledore, who was browsing the robes on the racks. Laris stood to one side dressed in jeans and a pink sweater with Leita on her shoulder, watching. Leita was hopping from one shoulder to another, apparently bored out of her mind. Morgan could hear her complaining in her mind.

"No flying around. No talking. Just act like a normal canary. What does she take me for, a pet?"

_If it makes you feel any better, you can sing. Normal birds do that,_ said Morgan telepathically.

Leita paused, glanced at Laris, and then began singing very loudly.

"Oh, what a lovely bird you have there," said Madame Malkins. "Its singing is so lovely."

"Thank you, though she usually doesn't sing this loudly." Laris glared at Leita in warning.

The canary immediately lowered its singing.

"There. All done."

Morgan hopped off the stool and looked at herself in the mirror. It was strange seeing herself in black. All her life, she'd been wearing the white robes of Sorcery, but she had to say that black didn't look too bad on her. At least it didn't make her look any shorter than she already was.

She paid for her three pairs of robes and thanked Madame Malkin as they left.

Dumbledore then led them around Diagon Alley, buying quills, parchments, a cauldron, ingredients for potions, a scale for measuring the ingredients, a brass telescope, and a trunk to put all her school supplies in. They passed by Eeylops Owl Emporium where Dumbledore explained about the usefulness of owls and asked if Morgan would want one of her own. But Morgan declined, thinking there was no one she needed to send a message to in this world and she doubted an owl could get a message to the School.

"You know what's the best thing about being a sorceress, right now?" whispered Morgan to Laris as they passed by a family who were laden down by packages of things they'd just bought. "I can just vanish everything we bought instead of carrying them around all day like those poor mortals."

Laris giggled as the father tripped and dropped the pile of parcels he had been carrying. One of them seemed to contain something very heavy because when it landed on his toe, the poor man hopped around on one foot cursing in pain.

"It seems we have only your spell books and your wand left," said Dumbledore. "Flourish & Blotts is the best place to purchase all your textbooks, and may I suggest you avoid using sorcery in public. You have no idea who could be watching. I assume Isis has warned you of this."

Morgan flushed and nodded. "Sorry, Professor."

The stepped into the biggest bookstore Morgan had ever seen. It looked like the shop was held up by bookshelves rather than walls. A person could spend their whole life in here and still not finish reading all the books.

Like in all the other stores, Dumbledore approached the clerk while Morgan and Laris looked around. Both girls enjoyed reading and excitement coursed through their veins as they raced up and down the aisles, scanning spines for interesting titles.

"Oooh, here's one on changing furniture into animals. 'In six easy steps, learn how to turn a rocking chair into a hopping hare'," said Laris, reading off the back. "Hmmm… they call this kind of magic Transfiguration."

"Hey Laris, check this out! There's a whole section here on predicting the future. It's called Divination. They even have a book on death omens. Look." Morgan held up a black book titled Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming. "Depressing, isn't it?"

Laris rolled her eyes. "I wonder what other kinds of magic these mortals know." She turned to check another aisle with poor Leita hanging on for dear life.

"Laris! Not so fast!" she begged. "My feathers are falling out!"

Morgan laughed and decided to head upstairs to check out the shelves up there when she heard a bell ring as someone opened the front door. She looked down over the wooden railings, to see a pale man with slick, long blond hair and a silver cane walk in. Behind him was an equally pale boy who also had blond hair but his was shorter.

They were probably father and son, thought Morgan, and rich too.

Both were dressed in expensive looking robes and they had an aura of self-centeredness that was so strong, it was almost tangible. They made their way to the front desk, where Dumbledore was still chatting with the clerk as the man assembled a large pile of books.

They're probably just here to buy textbooks too, thought Morgan and dismissed them from her thoughts as she continued to explore the second story.

She found the history section and started browsing the shelves, wondering how this branch of magic survived so many years in so great numbers. Unlike the wizards and witches of this world, the Sorcery were dwindling in numbers. They were scattered across their world in clans. Morgan's clan had little communication with the other clans due to the fact that the Forest separated them from the others.

A faded-red book caught her eye and she pulled it off the shelf. It was titled Famous Wizards and Witches of the 21st Century. She flipped through the book until a name caught her eye.

Harry Potter.

Curious, she began to read. This boy had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was barely a year old. No one knows how he did it, but he escaped with his life with nothing but a lightning shaped scar on his forhead. He was known today as the Boy Who Lived and was currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Well, it wasn't like I didn't already know that from my briefing with Isis and Dumbledore," muttered Morgan. She shut the book and put it back on the shelf.

Suddenly a piecing cry from Leita had Morgan rushing down the stairs. She followed the sound to the Divination section where the blond boy was pointing his wand at Leita. Leita was flopping up and down like she was a feathered yo-yo and shrieking in panic. Laris stood by, watching in horror as her spirit beast was being tormented.

Pissed off that this brat would dare hurt Leita, Morgan rushed over shouting, "Leave her alone!"

"What? It's just a stupid bird," he said a smirk on his face.

"I said leave her alone or else."

"Or else what?" he sneered.

"Or else I'll beat your face to a bloody pulp you arrogant brat!" snapped Morgan, her hand bunching into fists, ready to carry out that threat in a heartbeat.

"No, don't!" exclaimed Laris. "Would you just please let my bird go. Please?"

"I suggest you do as the girl ask, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore, appearing from behind a nearby shelf. "That bird is very dear to her so would you be so kind as to return it to her."

He scowled but lowered his wand and Laris caught Leita in her palm.

"Ah, there you are Draco." The father appeared by Draco Malfoy's side with a calm look in his face, like nothing had happened. "And what's this? New students, Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Lucius. We were just here to pick up some textbooks."

"Muggle-born, I presume?"

"No. Now if you will excuse us, we have more shopping to do. Good day."

"A little short on words, today, are we?" commented Lucius.

"My apologies, Lucius but we are in a hurry. So do excuse me for being rude." Dumbledore stepped around the Malfoys with the parcels of textbooks in one arm. Morgan and Laris hurried to help him as he led the way out of the store.

"How is Leita?" ask Dumbledore once they were outside.

"Leita?" Laris cradled the yellow canary in her hand and watched her anxiously.

"I'm all right. Just a little shaken." She flapped her winged enthusiastically to prove to us she was unharmed.

"That's good to hear or else I would've pounded that kid," said Morgan. "Who did he think he is, going around and messing with people's pets, no offense Leita."

"None taken." She hopped onto Laris shoulder and settled down next to her ear.

"The Malfoys are a powerful family here in the Wizarding world. They have a lot of power in the Ministry. Lucius is especially close to the Minister," explained Dumbledore. "He is also a Death Eater."

"What?!" exclaimed Morgan. "That was a Death Eater back there? And you just apologized for being _rude_ to him?"

"Lower your voice, Morgan. You do not want to draw attention to yourself," said Dumbledore. He led the way through the crowd towards their last stop, Ollivander's.

"But he's a Death Eater!" hissed Morgan. "Shouldn't you have blasted him with a spell or something? Isn't he the enemy?"

"Yes he is but our war has only just begun. Not everyone in the Wizarding world believes Voldemort has returned. Those who do are strongly outnumbered by those who do not, which is advantageous for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They are strengthening their numbers and calling in old allies while the rest of the world sits in denial or ignorance."

Morgan sensed Dumbledore's frustration and she sympathized with him. If this Minister of Magic guy would just listen to Dumbledore, then Dumbledore needn't have involved the Sorcery in this war and Morgan wouldn't be here shopping for school supplies. Then who knows what Morgan would be doing with her summer vacation.

They entered the shop and Morgan became distracted by the walls of narrow boxes stacked to the roof. Each of them contained a wand, she assumed. But there must be thousands of them in this little shop. She wondered vaguely how the owner would pull a wand out without knocking over the whole stack.

Dumbledore rang a bell by the counter and an voice called from the back, "Just a minute."

An old man with short white hair and pale eyes stepped out from the back. "Ah! Albus Dumbledore! So good to see you. I see you've brought some new faces."

"Yes, this is Morgan. She will be attending Hogwarts this year," explained Dumbledore. "Morgan, this is Mr. Ollivander. He is the owner of this wand shop and the maker of wands."

Morgan stepped forward to shake Mr. Ollivander's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"She's a bit old for a first year, isn't she Albus?"

"Perceptive as always, my friend. Morgan is a transfer student. She will be coming in as a 5th year. She's been studying at home for the past four years before I convinced her guardian to allow her to attend Hogwarts. Naturally, her education has been different and off track from ours. But I have faith that she can pick up on what she's missed fairly quickly."

Morgan nodded but didn't add to the cover story.

"Very well. Hold out your wand arm," said Mr. Ollivander as he pulled out a roll of measuring tape.

Unsure of what her 'wand arm' was, she just held out her right hand since she was right-handed. Mr. Ollivander immediately began measuring the length of her arm, her height, and everything in between. She felt like she was being measured for a custom-made dress rather than a wand.

As he worked, Mr. Ollivander began to explain that each wand was unique and that the "wand chooses the wizard." He finished his explanation by saying he remembered every wand he had ever sold. Then he began to take down boxes while the measuring tape kept measuring. It had started measuring Morgan's chest when she smacked the tape away. The tape bounced off the wooden floor and rolled behind the counter.

"Ah, try this one. Holly with unicorn hair, 12 inches." He handed the wand over but as soon as she touched the wand the man snatched it away. "No. How about this one, Ash and dragon heart string, 15 ½ inches."

She had only touched the tip of the handle when Ollivander snatched it back.

"No no, Willow and phoenix feather, 13 inches."

Again she barely touched the wand before he took it away.

They repeated this process for quite some time. Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan could see Laris and Leita giggling as they watched her stand there testing out random pieces of wood.

Well at least, Leita seems to have recovered, thought Morgan.

Morgan watched Mr. Ollivander continue to pull wands down. She sensed him growing more and more excited after each box he pulled down.

_Someone's enjoying himself a little too much…_

"Tricky… tricky… but we'll find the right one somewhere…."

An hour later they had literally tried every wand in the entire shop and not one was apparently the "one".

"Now this is strange…" muttered Mr. Ollivander. "Very strange. Could there have been a mistake, Albus? Perhaps she is a squib?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "There is no mistake. I am sure of it."

"This is very strange then… I cannot think of any reason why not a single wand in this shop has chosen her as its wielder."

"Perhaps it is because the wand destined for Morgan is not made yet?" suggested Dumbledore.

"That is possible, but highly unlikely. She isn't reacting to any of the three cores."

"Then perhaps she needs a different core…say her own?"

"What do you mean, Albus?"

Morgan gasped as she caught on to Dumbledore's thinking. She reached up and pulled out three strands of her hair.

_It makes perfect sense! As Sorcery, we draw power from our soul. So with wizardry I too must draw power from myself… well, in theory anyways. But will it work?_

Morgan held out her hairs to Mr. Ollivander, who blinked in confusion.

"Your own hair? This is completely unheard of… and a revolutionary idea!" New excitement ignited in his eyes as he took the strands. "I wonder what kind of wand this will produce…" He began muttering to himself of all the possible results of this experiment.

"When should we return for the wand?" asked Dumbledore.

"Oh um, let's see…a week at most. Come by Friday afternoon. It should be ready by then."

Dumbledore nodded. "Until Friday then."

Morgan and Laris bowed as they left, thanking Mr. Ollivander, who was still muttering excitedly to himself.

"He is one strange old man," said Laris as they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"But he is a master at making wands. I am quite curious as well on what your wand can do. It is not a wand of our world. Will it even be able to work our spells?" pondered Dumbledore.

"Hold on. Do you mean to say that I might end up going to Hogwarts without even the ability to perform any of your magic?" exclaimed Morgan. "How the hell am I supposed to fit in and protect that boy without being noticed?"

"It is too early to say for sure what will happen. We will return on Friday for your wand and if things turn out for the worst then we will have to rethink our plan. For now, I suggest you try to catch up on your new school work. You have four years of reading ahead before you are caught up with the rest of your year. I've taken the liberty to include the previous four years' textbooks in your order. There is still a month left of summer. That's plenty of time to learn a few lessons."

Morgan smacked her head and groaned. This was turning out to be the worst summer of her life.

A shop to her right caught her eye.

She paused to read the sign, Quality Quidditch Supplies. In the window was a broom – but not your ordinary broom that you use to sweep the floor with. The pole was sand-papered down and waxed to look shiny and smooth, and its tail didn't have a single twig out of place. Everything about that broom seemed to scream aerodynamic, though Morgan had no idea why.

"What cha looking at?" asked Laris curiously.

"Hey, look! This shop sells brooms," said Leita, hovering in front of the window. "This broom's called a Firebolt. What's a Firebolt? Is it a brand of brooms?"

"It's more of a model of brooms." Dumbledore came to stand behind the two girls and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I see you two have discovered the allure of Quidditch."

"Quidditch? What's Quidditch?" asked Morgan.

"It's a Wizarding sport played on brooms in the air with seven balls –"

"Wait, hold on. Did you just say this sport is played in the air on _brooms_? As in, the brooms _fly_?"

"Yes."

"As in this thing, in the window here, _flies_?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Okay, time to go home. My brain is on overload. I've had enough for one day." Morgan turned and hurried away clutching her head. Laris ran after her while Dumbledore chuckled to himself.

Yes, he supposed this day was very taxing for someone who was new to their world. He could understand Morgan's need to regroup her thoughts before she faced another day of new discovery.

So he treated the girls to dinner at the Leaky Cauldron and escorted them back onto the streets of London where they assured him they could get home on their own. They parted and Dumbledore watched as they crossed the street.

A bus passed by and they vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was a particularly chilly morning when Morgan stepped through the portal and appeared on Platform 9¾. Before her stood the majestic steam engine which was supposed to take her to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She could only gape as her eyes traveled from the head to the tail.

What an amazing piece of metal, she thought. She'd never seen anything like it, except in books.

The truth was, this assignment was the first assignment Morgan ever had that involved her traveling to another world. Throughout her life at the School, she had never visited another world before, even though she knew they were out there. Her teachers had told her meddling in another world was very dangerous and only graduates were allowed to travel to other worlds.

Morgan's thoughts were interrupted as Laris and Matthew appeared behind her. Then Bane, Leita, and Ransho stepped out of the portal before it disappeared.

"It seems we are the first to arrive," said Ransho pleasantly. They had decided to arrive earlier to avoid the crowd but the platform was as silent as the dead.

"You sure we're at the right place?" asked Matthew. "It's deserted."

"I'll look around," said Leita and she took off.

"Be careful!" Laris called after her.

Ransho checked his pocket watch. "The time is 10 o'clock. I believe we are an hour early."

Morgan approached the locomotive, which was sitting silently on the tracks. As she approached, she could make out the gold letters that said Hogwarts Express.

"Yup, this is it," she said.

Leita chirped, announcing her return. "This is Platform 9¾. There's a sign over there that says it very clearly."

"So we're an hour early… now what?" asked Matthew.

"Let's check out the train," said Morgan.

"Okay!"

Laris followed Morgan as she climbed onto the first car. The seats looked very comfortable and the aisles were clean. There were curtains on the window and racks to store luggage above the seats.

"Wow! This is pretty neat, huh Morgan?"

Morgan nodded in agreement and opened the door to the next car.

"Hey, this one's different."

The second car didn't have as nice chairs as the first one. While the first car had cushions seats and pillows for your back, the second one had simple but still comfortable seats. There were also no curtains for the windows. Instead there was a small screen at the top for the occupants to pull down and shade themselves from the sun.

"Think the other one was first class?"

Morgan shrugged. "Come on! I'll race you to the end of the train!"

She took off with Laris close behind. It was kind of fun and felt like an obstacle course as she ran down the aisle to the next door. Sometimes one of them would overtake the other because she was having trouble with the door; but neither of them really cared about winning.

Morgan was secretly glad she could have this last time with her best friend. She didn't know why, but Morgan had a strange feeling she wouldn't be seeing Laris, Matthew, or any of the others for a long time.

Outside, Morgan could see Bane and Leita racing with them on the platform. Morgan couldn't help but laugh at how silly they were being, racing on an empty train. She was turning fifteen in December but right now, she felt like she was a little kid again without a care in the world.

They finally reached the end with Morgan in the lead. She doubled over to try and catch her breath.

"Phew, that was a work out. I didn't think this train was _that _long."

Laris laughed.

"Hey! You guys done fooling around yet?" called Matthew. "I think some people just arrived."

Morgan and Laris hopped off to see who else was here. They were on the other side of the platform but Morgan could make out small groups of people appearing out of the wall.

"There's probably an illusion of some sort that hides the entrance to this platform from the other mortals," said Matthew.

They watched as more and more students and their families arrived. They milled around at the head of the train and mingled. But soon, people were getting onto the train to take their seats.

"May I suggest you hurry and claim a compartment in the back to avoid detection," said Ransho.

Morgan nodded and climbed back onto the last car. She picked the very last compartment and made sure no one was in the aisle before shutting the door. The compartment looked like it could seat four comfortably but should still be able to fit two more before things got cramped.

Morgan snapped her finger and her trunk appeared on the floor. It was too heavy to lift so she used her mind to levitate it onto the rack by the window seat. She made sure it was tucked securely in before returning to the others.

"Do you have everything?" asked Ransho.

Morgan nodded. "It's all locked up in my trunk."

"That is good to hear. Now remember what Isis and I told you, refrain from performing any sorcery while you are in this world. I know it is second nature for us to vanish heavy loads like trunks, but you must not be seen performing any sorcery. The Sorcery must be kept a secret from the wizards."

"I understand, sir."

"Have you tried out your wand yet?"

"Uh, sort of…" Morgan reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand – willow with three strands of her own hair, 16 inches. "I've been practicing some spells but I don't think they're working. Like there was one for levitating objects that I found in the first year's spell book. I know I'm doing it exactly as the book says but nothing happens. I had to picture the object levitating in my head, which isn't part of the instruction, for it to move, so I think I'm using sorcery instead."

"Hmm, this is troubling. I had not anticipated Sorcery to be incompatible with Wizardry. Perhaps you require more practice and more specific instructions. I will speak with Dumbledore immediately to request the necessary assistance for you to master their magic and carry out your assignment."

In a flash of light, Ransho was gone.

"You know, you could just fake the magic if worst comes to worst," said Matthew.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, just cast an illusion and use Sorcery to do the same thing, like levitating a book or something."

"Matthew!" exclaimed Laris. "Ransho just told her to _not_ use sorcery in front of mortals. Are you saying she should go against a direct order?"

Matthew shrugged. "How else is she going to blend in at this school of theirs? Besides, no one will find out. Mortals can't see past illusions, right?"

"We don't know what these mortals can do. They can divine the future like our Seers so who knows what other similar magic they possess. Maybe they do have the power to see past our illusions."

"She's right, Matthew," said Bane. "It could be disastrous if the mortals found out about Morgan and the Sorcery. This is a very foolish and risky plan."

"Hey, whose spirit beast are you, mine or hers?" snapped Matthew.

"Okay you two. Cool it. There's no reason to fight, especially in public," cut in Morgan. "Besides, I think Matthew's right."

"What?!" exclaimed Laris and Bane.

"Look, I know it's risky but I'm not like Matthew. I can cast a pretty damn good illusion, even without a scry stone. I'm not as good as you Laris, but I'm better than Matthew."

"Hey!"

"Sorry Matt, but you know it's true. You're lousy at illusions."

"Point taken so would you stop butchering up my pride."

"Just be careful, Morgan," said Laris with worry in her eyes. "Don't do anything reckless."

"Don't worry, Laris. I can take care of myself." Morgan smiled to reassure her.

Laris nodded. "Keep in touch, okay? We can use Leita to carry letters to each other. Since she's able to travel between worlds, we can write to each other every day."

"Sure Laris. I'll keep you posted on everything that happens to me at Hogwarts and you can keep me filled in on what's going on back home."

By then, nearly the entire platform was filled with people. It was fifteen minutes until eleven and families were saying their goodbyes. The train was filling up but luckily the crowd hadn't reached their end yet.

Morgan spotted the pale boy from the bookstore among the crowd. He was with his family. There was something silver pinned to the boy's chest. It reflected in the morning light as he chatted with his family. As Morgan watched, two boys approached the pale boy. It seemed they were friends. They climbed onto the train together while their family conversed on the platform.

Suddenly another group caught Morgan's eye. There were seven kids, a few adults, and a big black dog. Four of the kids, three boys and one girl, had flaming red hair. Another girl had long, bushy brown hair, and the last boy had messy jet-black hair. None of the adults looked like they were any of the kids' parents. And there was something about the way they were standing around the group of kids that reminded Morgan of body guards.

Bane suddenly started growling, his hackles rising. He was also watching the group of kids.

"What is it, Bane?" asked Matthew.

"That dog reeks of magic and human," he growled, teeth bared. "It's unnatural."

The group was getting closer. They seemed to be avoiding the crowd and trying to find somewhere more secluded.

"Stay put, Bane. Don't start a scene," hissed Matthew, his hand in the wolf's fur.

Morgan half-wished Bane wore a collar and leash so they could grab him if the wolf attacked. But that would've pissed Bane off even more and he'd probably turn on them.

The group was close enough for the three Sorcery to use their mind to listen in on their thoughts.

One of the adults, an old man with a cane and grizzly hair, was talking. "Now remember, you lot. Don't go sending any owls mentioning the Order. You don't know who could be intercepting your mail. If you do need to contact one of us, remember to change owls."

The children nodded.

"Good. Now off with you. Remember, constant vigilance!" he barked.

The boy with black hair and glasses knelt down to hug the big black dog. "I'm going to miss you, Sirius. Thanks for coming here to see me off."

The dog barked once and licked the boy's face.

"Don't worry. I'll write if anything happens at Hogwarts."

The dog got up on his hind legs and placed his front paws on the boy's shoulders, almost like a hug.

"Sirius!" hissed the old man. "You're supposed to be a dog, blast it. Start acting like one. You don't know who could be watching."

Sirius got down and whined, his tail tucked between his legs.

The boy patted the dog on his head.

"Harry, let's go! The train's leaving in a few minutes," said the girl with bushy brown hair.

Harry gave the dog one last hug before hurrying onto the train, where one of the other adults had left his trunk.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that's the kid you're going to spend the next year protecting," said Matthew. "Man, he's even scrawnier in real life. He looks as if a good punch would knock him out good."

Morgan snorted. "Then I better hope this kid doesn't get into any fist fights or I'm going to have a hard time explaining to Dumbledore why I didn't do my job."

A whistle sounded, warning the families to step away because the train was about to leave.

"Oh no! It's two minutes till eleven!" chirped Leita, glancing at the big clock at the head of the platform.

"Hurry up, Morgan!" exclaimed Laris, giving her a push.

"Okay okay!"

Morgan hopped on and entered her compartment where she opened the window to lean out and talk with them for the last few minutes.

Across the platform, Moody stood watching the group at the back of the train converse with a girl through the window.

"That'll be the Sorcery, Dumbledore mentioned last night, correct?" asked Kingsley.

Moody nodded. "Yes. And they're a strange bunch, from what I heard. Damn powerful but few in numbers."

"So that girl is supposed to protect Potter?"

"She'll have her hands full. The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts this year. Dumbledore says she'll have to protect Potter from everyone, including the Ministry. And speaking of protecting," Moody rounded on Sirius. "You are disobeying a direct order from Dumbledore, Sirius. And don't think for a second old Malfoy didn't notice you."

Sirius growled and barked once, tilting his head at the Sorcery group.

"Yes, I see their dog too. But theirs is probably a _real_ dog. You're an Animagus and a wizard on the run," snapped Moody.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

The train gave a final whistle as it began to roll forward.

The Order watched the Sorcery say their final farewell. The Hogwarts Express was picking up speed. Their dog and the two Sorcery ran after the train, waving. The girl waved back, leaning out of the window. The two stopped running as the train pulled out of King's Cross and turned the corner, gone.

"All right, back to Headquarters with you, Padfoot," said Moody and they Disapparated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Harry and Ginny dragged their trunks down the aisle, searching for an empty compartment. All the ones so far were full and as they neared the back of the train, Harry began to worry there may not be any seats left.

Harry looked up and nearly ran into a trunk propped upright in the middle of the aisle.

"What the –?"

"Oh, sorry," said a dreamy voice from behind. A girl with waist-length dirty blond hair and grey eyes appeared from behind the trunk. She was dressed in jeans and an overcoat and was wearing a bizarre necklace made of butterbeer corks. She also seemed to have what look like radish earrings dangling from her small ears. "It seems someone has taken my seat while I was out. Oh well, I suppose I should find another one."

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked with uncertainty.

"No, I'm fine. Besides, you already have your own trunk to carry," she replied and picked up her trunk with surprising strength.

She led the way down the aisle as the three searched for seats. Along the way they ran into Neville, a round, forgetful boy who was carrying a bizarre looking cactus in one arm and dragging his trunk with his other one.

"Oh Harry! Are you looking for a compartment too? I just tried this car but there's nothing. How about up ahead?"

Harry shook his head. "No good. It's all full. Let's try the back."

"Where's Ron and Hermione?" he asked.

"They're with the other prefects," replied Ginny.

After what seemed like ages, they reached the last car.

"Oh I don't believe it! It's full too," exclaimed Neville.

"Hmm, there's room in this last one here," pointed the blond girl. "There's someone in here but I'm sure she won't mind." She slid the compartment door open and stepped in.

"Hello. Would you mind sharing this compartment with us? Everywhere else is full."

"Um, sure," said a slightly confused voice.

"Great, thank you."

Harry followed Neville in and saw that the voice belonged to a girl with long black hair and bright forest green eyes. She wore a white turtle neck and blue jeans. She had a book in her lap and was sitting with her back against the window with her knees tucked up on the seat.

She got up to help them lift their trunks up onto the racks. Harry noticed that she was slightly shorter than him as she helped him heave his trunk and place it over Neville's.

"Phew, I'm exhausted," said Ginny, sitting down to rest.

"I found it to be quite fun, " said the blond girl dreamily.

"So what are your names?" asked Ginny to the two girls.

"Luna Lovegood. Pleasure to meet all of you," said the blond girl. "I'm a fourth year Ravenclaw."

"Ginny Weasley, fourth year Gryffindor."

"I'm Neville Longbottom and I'm a fifth year Gryffindor."

Harry was about to introduce himself when Luna cut in. "You're Harry Potter, you know." She was eyeing his scar with a somewhat curiously dreamy look.

"Er, yeah." He flattened his bangs uncomfortably and glance at the girl with black hair to hear her introductions. She was sitting by the window and seemed a little embarrassed before she finally spoke up.

"My name's Morgan and I'm a fifth year."

"Fifth year, huh? What house are you in?" asked Ginny.

"Umm…"

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open and the witch who sold snacks poked her head in.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" she asked kindly.

"Oh yes! I'm starving!" exclaimed Neville.

Harry felt his stomach rumble and he eagerly grabbed his bag of gold so he could purchase some Wizarding delights.

A half hour later, they were munching on chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, and cauldron cakes. Everyone, except Morgan had bought something off the trolley. Morgan sat in the corner silently reading her book, which reminded Harry of Hermione. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy as he remembered that Ron and Hermione were in the prefect car.

"Hey, Neville. What's that plant you have there?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, this is a Mimbulus Mimbletonia. It's really rare. My great uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I want to show it to Professor Sprout in Herbology."

"So what does it do?" asked Harry. The cactus was puke green and had little boils on its surface.

"Well, I haven't figured that out yet. That's why I'm raising it. I can't wait for it to fully mature."

Somehow Neville was reminding Harry of Hagrid, but with plants rather than giant man-eating creatures, like Aragog.

"My uncle told me that he heard from the locals that pus is very useful in helping relieve nerves. They also told him that it has a special defense mechanism. Want to see?" asked Neville, excitedly.

"Uh…"

Neville pulled out a quill and he poked one of the boils.

Suddenly dark-green liquid exploded from the cactus and splattered on everyone. The smell was intense, like rancid manure. Harry frantically started whipping the pus off his face as Neville apologized profusely in the background.

Just then the compartment door slid open and Cho appeared in the doorway.

"Hi Harry."

Harry immediately felt his cheeks flame as he became consciously aware that he was covered in green pus while she stood in the doorway as pretty as ever.

"Hi, Cho."

"Oh, um, what an interesting… plant," she commented, standing awkwardly at the door.

"It's a Mimbulus Mimbletonia," explained Neville. "The pus kind of exploded on us a second ago. That's why we're covered in pus, but don't worry. It's not poisonous."

"Oh. Uh, how lovely." Cho hesitated. "Um, I guess this is a bad time. I'll see you later then, Harry."

"Okay."

After Cho left, Harry turned to see Morgan whipping pus off the cover of her book with her still white sleeve. It seems she had escaped the pus while everyone else was half drenched in it.

"I think I'm going to go change into my robes now," said Ginny, hiding her disgust.

"I guess I will too," said Luna in her dreamy voice.

"Then I better get some napkins to clean up the seats. Here, hold this Harry, would you?"

"Uh, sure," said Harry and Neville handed the Mimbulus Mimbletonia to him and left.

Harry was left alone with Morgan, who was still reading. He tried to get comfortable and ignore her, but the awkward silence persisted. He finally decided to try and strike up a conversation with this reserved girl.

"Do you like to read?"

"Huh?" She looked up from her book. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Oh, I just asked if er, you liked to read," he said awkwardly.

"Yes, I enjoy reading from time to time."

"Oh, I see…"

The awkward silence returned.

"You're really quiet. You don't talk much, do you?"

Morgan shrugged, still reading.

"You know, you're the same year as me but I've never seen you before. Which house did you say you were in again?"

Morgan shut her book and stood up so abruptly that it nearly startled Harry. "Excuse me. I am going to go change as well."

She stepped passed him and left so suddenly, Harry didn't have a chance to say okay. He stared after her in confusion, wondering if he had somehow offended her.

Morgan stalked down the aisle of the car, irritated with how Fate had thrown the boy right at her face like that. Of all the things to happen, this was the worst. Here she was, planning to have a few hours of peace before her assignment was to begin and suddenly the boy bursts in with three other mortals. Then he had to go and be nosey, making Morgan feel like a fool because she had no idea what Gryffindor or Ravenclaw was. And then there was that green pus that had splattered everywhere. She had acted on instinct and threw up a barrier, which prevented her from being hit by the worst of it. She only hoped no one had noticed the slight shimmer of color of the barrier that had appeared around her. She had dropped it immediately afterwards so that should have limited anyone from doing a double-take.

Morgan paused in the corner, by the window, and sighed. What was she getting all mad about anyways? It was an accident after all. It wasn't like that boy, Neville, meant to spray pus all over them, and in truth the mortals were really nice. The Luna girl really intrigued Morgan. Her thoughts were the strangest and most interesting. The Potter boy on the other hand… his thoughts were so loud, it was like he was yelling in her ear. She'd wear ear plugs for the rest of the year if it would help drown out his thoughts and emotions.

Just then, a boy with red hair and the bushy hair girl passed by as they headed for the back. Morgan spotted a ginger cat in the girl's arms and a small owl hanging off the boy's shoulder. There was also something shiny pinned to both their chests. Morgan could just barely make out a big P before they passed.

_They must be looking for Potter…_

Morgan leaned against the wall and looked out the window. They were passing through a huge field of grass. Up ahead, she could barely make out a bridge that they would be crossing in a few minutes.

This world was really beautiful, thought Morgan. There weren't any dark forests that had man-eating plants and god knows what other creatures that prey on travelers. Morgan contemplating moving her current house to some open grass land… maybe near a lake where it was nice and quiet.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. A black trail of smoke had appeared from between the gray clouds and it was heading straight for the bridge.

"That doesn't look good," muttered Morgan. She hurried down the aisle, heading for the front of the train where she could have a better view.

The black entity seemed to be weaving in and out of the bridge's structure and as Morgan watched, the bridge began to sway dangerously. Whatever that black thing was, it was tearing down the bridge.

Morgan hurried into the nearest open lavatory and locked the door before phasing into her shadow and appearing on the roof of the train. The wind was strong but she threw up a barrier that pushed back the wind, allowing her to stand upright.

From here, she could see the bridge collapsing into the river below. Unfortunately, it seemed the driver hadn't noticed that the bridge had collapsed yet, and it was too late for them to brake in time anyways.

Thinking quickly, Morgan summoned her scry stone. It appeared in midair before her. Her scry stone was emerald green in a pentagon shape. The faces were smooth and flat and reflected her image perfectly. She muttered under her breath, constructing an illusion in her mind as she worked. Then she sent the stone to the head of the train where the illusion activated. Now, everyone on board would still think the bridge was in place.

Next, Morgan concentrated with her mind, sending it ahead of the train and over the edge of the cliff, into the river, where she found the remains of the tracks. It took every ounce of mental strength she had to lift the tracks back up and link with the rest of the tracks.

There wasn't enough time to rebuild the entire bridge. The train jumped a little as it rolled onto the tracks Morgan was levitating. The weight on the tracks made her knees buckle and give out, but her concentration never wavered. Her hands were shaking as the heavy train rolled over the tracks. By the time the head of the train cleared the river, Morgan's head was pounding, like someone was hammering a nail into the back of her skull, but still she held on.

It seemed like ages later when the train finally cleared the river and Morgan released her hold on the tracks. She dropped her arms and collapsed, exhausted.

_Damn. We're not even at Hogwarts yet and already there's an attack._

She closed her eyes to rest as the train continued on its journey to Hogwarts; its occupants unaware that they had almost fallen to their deaths if it weren't for the sorceress on board.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The train lurched, catching everyone in the compartment off guard. Hermione cried out when Harry's trunk toppled off the rack and landed in Morgan's empty seat. Crookshanks leaped into Hermione's lap and hissed while Pigwidgeon flew in panic circles around their heads.

"What the bloody hell was that?" exclaimed Ron. He stanched the small, fist-size owl out of the air to try and calm it.

"It felt like we hit something," said Hermione.

Everyone was still a little shaken, the train had never done that before. Harry peered out the window to try and see what the train might have hit.

"We're on a bridge," he told the others. "Wow, that's a big drop."

"Hey, let's get this back up there," said Ron. Harry helped him heave the heavy trunk back up and they sat down panting.

Harry glanced at Morgan's empty seat and wondered where she was.

"Like I was saying before," said Hermione. "You'll never guess who was made prefect for Slytherin. That cow, Pansy Parkinson, and –"

"Malfoy!" cut in Ron. "That snot-nosed git was strutting around the prefect cabin like he owned the place. He's already threatening the first years with detention and stuff."

"Ron you better not try and start anything with him," said Hermione, warningly. "Things could go really badly for both of you."

"What? Do you think I can't take him?"

Just then, the door opened and Luna and Ginny came in.

"Hi, Hermione. Hi, Ron," greeted Ginny as she took her seat. "I thought you two had to sit in the prefect's car."

"We're supposed to patrol the train and make sure everyone is behaving," explained Hermione, "which reminds me, we should get back soon, Ron."

"Aw, come on, Hermione. Give me a break, we just got here. Did the trolley come by yet, Harry? I'm starved!"

"Yeah, it was here a while ago."

"You can have some of my cauldron cake, Ron. I'm full," offered Neville.

"Thanks Neville." Ron unwrapped the cake and starting shoving it down as fast as he could.

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes.

"You should check the insides for Spinewicks," said Luna. "They tend to lurk inside cakes."

"What's a Spinewick?" asked Hermione.

"Little fluffy black spider creatures. If you accidentally eat one, it'll make you throw up for hours."

Ron stopped mid-bite and paled. "Spider?" He immediately started hacking up what he just ate.

"Ew, Ron that's disgusting!" exclaimed Ginny.

"I've never heard of Spinewick. Where did you learn about them?" asked Hermione, skeptically.

Luna reached into her bag and pulled out a tabloid. "The Quibbler."

Hermione laughed. "Oh that's a load of rubbish. Everyone knows the Quibbler was written by loons."

Ginny coughed and elbowed Hermione in the arm.

"Huh?"

"Her father is the editor," whispered Ginny.

"Oh, uh, what I meant to say was –"

"Well that's fine then," she said in a cold voice devoid of her usual dreamy-feel. Luna stuffed the Quibbler back into her bag and got up. She marched out and semi-slammed the compartment door behind her.

"Now you've done it, Hermione," said Ron.

"But I – I…"

"Forget it, Hermione," said Ginny. "She's called Loonie Lovegood for a reason. You're not the first to insult her father and you certainly won't be the last."

Hermione bent her head down, ashamed. "I feel so awful."

Just then, the compartment door slid open. At first Harry thought it might be Luna, back to grab her things or maybe the elusive Morgan back from wherever she had gone off to. But when Harry looked up, he realized the reality was much worse.

Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. His silver and green prefect badge gleamed in the light as he puffed out his chest.

"Well, well, if it isn't Potter and his gang of wanna-bes."

"Get out, Malfoy," snapped Harry. He wasn't in the mood to tangle with him.

"Little touchy are we, Potter? Getting upset over what the paper's been saying about you all summer. 'Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lies."

Crabbe and Goyle snickered dumbly from behind. They looked even more like gorillas this year. Both had grown over the summer – more across than up.

"Back off Malfoy," snapped Ron, jumping to his feet.

"Or what, Weasley? Just because Dumbledore took pity on you and gave you the prefect badge doesn't put you even remotely close to my rank and status. You can probably sell that prefect badge to pay for a better house than that old shack you call a home."

"Get out, Malfoy before I report you to the Head Boy. Don't think for a second I didn't see you tormenting those first years in Car C," snapped Hermione.

"You dare threaten me, you filthy Mudblood? Your prefect badge means nothing. Why don't you go back to the muggles you came from."

"That's it!" Ron and Harry simultaneously lunged for Malfoy but before their fists could collide with Malfoy's face, Neville grabbed Harry back and Ginny and Hermione caught hold of Ron.

"Stop it! He's not worth it," said Hermione through gritted teeth as she strained to hold Ron back. Even with Ginny's help, Ron was slowly slipping.

"Let go, Neville. I've had it with his crap."

"Harry, no!" But Harry slipped out of Neville's grasp and tackled Malfoy. They landed in the aisle where they rolled down the car, punching at whatever their fists could come in contact with.

"Stop Harry! You'll get in trouble!" pleaded Hermione.

Crabbe and Goyle stood dumbly around the pair, unsure of what to do. There was just no room in the aisle for them to jump in the fight since they were too big.

Just then the door to the car opened, but Harry and Draco were too engaged in their fight to notice. Morgan stood in the doorway, surprised to find Potter in the middle of a fist fight with the pale boy she had met in the book store. What was his name again? Draco?

She watched them roll around, punching the crap out of each other and she sighed.

_ From on disaster to another… Will I never get any peace?_

Morgan rolled up her sleeves and bent down. She grabbed Draco by the collar of his robe and hauled him up before propelling him out the door and into the next car. She slammed the door in his face and then turned with her hands on her hips, to glare down at Harry, who was panting and bleeding. His robes were hanging off to one side and his lip was swollen.

"Did anyone tell you you're a fucking dumbass?"

"What?"

Irritated, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and half-dragged him back down the aisle to their compartment.

"Get in there before you cause any more trouble." She practically threw him inside before rounding on Draco's two lackeys. "I suggest you get out of here before you tick me off even more."

Morgan watched them rush out the car, locking the door with her mind after them, before stepping back into the compartment.

"What was that for?" shouted Harry, standing angrily in the middle of the seats.

"For you being a dumbass," replied Morgan, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against it and crossed her arms. "Sit and cool your head. We're not even at Hogwarts yet and you're already starting a fight."

"So what? He was asking for it."

"Well next time don't give it to him," snapped Morgan. "Did anyone tell you you have anger issues?"

Harry was glaring at her with hate in his eyes. Then something flickered behind his emerald eyes that sent a chill down her spine. She had no idea what it was that caused it, but she made a mental note to watch for signs of it again.

"You know, he's just going to come marching back, looking for a fight," said the boy with red hair.

"Let him try. I locked the door to the car."

"Well, I say we finish what we started," said the red-hair boy.

"Ron!" exclaimed the bushy hair girl.

"Look, Hermione, I've had it with that git insulting my family and calling you a Mudblood," said Ron, getting up. Ginny immediately lunged at him, trying to push him down.

"Ginny?!"

"When will you ever learn, Ron? You can't solve everything by fighting."

"She's right, you know. So sit down, hot head," said Morgan. "No one's going anywhere without dealing with me."

"Who died and made you queen?" snapped Harry. "And where did you go off to? I thought you said you were going to change into your robes."

"Bathroom was full so I decided to walk around a bit," she lied smoothly.

"You look more like you just came out of a tornado."

Morgan shrugged, knowing full well that her hair must be a mess after standing on top of the train for the past half hour. "The window was open."

"Uh, huh. Whatever." Harry took his seat and crossed his arm, glaring out the window.

There was a heavy silence that was finally broken when Hermione stood up with the ginger cat in her arms."We better go back, Ron."

"Fine," he said reluctantly.

Morgan stepped aside as the two of them left. Neville and Ginny muttered something about looking for a friend before leaving as well, which left Morgan alone with Harry.

After a while he stood up and approached her. "Could you move, please?" he said roughly.

"Did you cool down yet?"

"Yeah. I'm just going out for some air."

Morgan did a quick scan of his emotions and thoughts before nodding and stepped aside to let him pass. Alone in the compartment, Morgan finally sighed with exhaustion.

"This is harder than the exit exams Isis gave me. That kid is going to get me killed or expelled at this rate," she muttered.

Morgan reached for her truck to pull out her uniform. She quickly changed out of her turtle neck and jeans and into her Hogwarts uniform. It took her a couple of tries to get the tie right – she'd never seen these wretched things before coming to this world and had no idea why she had to wear it. When she shrugged on her black robes, she felt something in her right pocket.

She reached inside to find a rolled up parchment. Curious, Morgan unrolled it and discovered it was a note from Dumbledore.

_Dear Morgan, _

_You may not know this but Hogwarts students are sorted into four different Houses. To keep your presence as little known as possible I have taken the liberty of placing you in Gryffindor. Harry is also in Gryffindor so you will be able to keep an eye on him at all times. I wish you luck._

_ ~ Albus Dumbledore_

"Lucky me," she muttered. She shoved the note back into her pocket and used the window as a mirror to adjust her tie.

She sat down in her seat and picked up the book she had been reading. Morgan had almost caught up with her school work. She was already done with her History of Magic, Herbology, and Potions reading. It was her Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts readings that were giving her a hard time. Not being able to cast any of the spells was really hindering her progress with her studies. She supposed she should talk with Dumbledore the first chance she got.

A half hour of reading later, and still no one came back. Morgan supposed she had scared them off with her dictator-like antics. Harry Potter probably hated her guts by now but she didn't care. No one mentioned having Harry like her as part of her assignment.

She glanced out the window. The sun was sinking closer to the horizon. Morgan vaguely wondered how much longer the train ride was going to last as she felt her body grow heavy. That stunt with the bridge had really taken its toll on her. She rested her head against the window and closed her eyes.

_A short nap and then more reading…. just a short nap…._

She was sound asleep before her book fell out of her hand and landed face down on the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The Hogwarts Express finally pulled in at the station in Hogsmeade. Ginny, Luna, and Neville grabbed the lasts of their snacks and proceeded out the door. Harry was about to follow after them when he looked back to see Morgan still fast asleep. Her head was leaning against the window and she was taking in deep soft breaths.

Harry wondered what could have exhausted her so much that she'd sleep so soundly. She couldn't have been exhausted from the incident with Malfoy, could she? Harry debated whether he should just leave her or if he should wake her up.

_She did call me a dumbass and she was really bossy._

By then, the entire car was empty and the girl still hadn't woken up. And as much as he would have liked to just leave her, his conscious wouldn't let him.

"Hey, wake up." He shook her arm. "Wake up."

"Huh?" Her sleepy green eyes were unfocused as she opened them. She looked up at him without recognition. "Wha-?"

"Come on. We've arrived at Hogsmead."

"Where?" She sat up and yawned.

"The station. Hurry up or we'll miss the carriages and then we'll have to walk all the way up to the castle."

"Castle?" She shook her head. "Oh man, how long have I been asleep?"

"Long enough."

Morgan quickly stood up and straightened her robes. A parchment fell out of her pocket. Harry stooped to pick it up and recognized the signature.

Dumbledore.

Why did she have a letter from Dumbledore in her pocket?

Harry was about to unroll the parchment when Morgan snatched it out of his hand.

"Opps. Can't believe I dropped this." She hastily stuffed the parchment back into her pocket. "Let's go. Aren't we in a hurry?"

Harry nodded and led the way off the train. His mind kept returning to that parchment. He wondered what could be on that note from Dumbledore. It was puzzling and kind of irritating to Harry. This random girl was receiving letters from Dumbledore when Harry had gotten nothing from the Headmaster the entire summer. If it wasn't for the Dementor attack, Harry suspected he would have spent the entire summer at the Dursleys – miserable and without any communication with the Wizarding world.

They reached the carriages pulled by invisible horses and spotted Ron and Hermione waiting for them.

"Finally! We were beginning to worry, Harry. This is the last carriage. Hurry up!" said Hermione.

As Harry was about to climb on board, he noticed that the usual invisible horse had been replaced by something else – something that looked half dead. The creature had a horse-shaped body but bat-wings protruding from its back. There was no fur on the creature either, just reptilian grey skin that emphasized the creature's skeleton.

"What is that thing?" asked Harry, watching the creature curiously as it unfurled its leather wings like it was stretching.

"What? Wha'cha looking at, Harry?" asked Ron.

"That thing, pulling the carriage. Can't you see it?"

Ron shook his head. "There's nothing there, like always."

Hermione was watching Harry with a concerned look on her face. Harry started feeling dread creep into his heart. Here he goes again, seeing and hearing things that aren't there.

"Don't worry, you're not crazy," said Luna. "I can see them too. They're called Thestrals. Only people who've seen someone die can see them. I've been able to see them since my first year."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure if he should be comforted that someone like Luna could see it. In fact, it made Harry feel like he was losing his mind even more.

Harry climbed in, followed by Morgan and Ron before the door shut and the carriage lurched forward.

"Hey, did you guys hear? Seamus' was about to not come back to Hogwarts this year," said Neville.

"What? Why is that?" asked Hermione.

"He said it was cause of you, Harry, and Dumbledore. Said his mom thought you guys were a bunch of loons."

"What?! So it's my fault now? Where's Seamus? I'm going to –"

"Calm down, Harry. He's probably just buying in to all that rubbish the Prophet's been publishing about you all summer," said Hermione.

"Yeah, mate. Hermione and I both know You Know Who is back and that you fought him," said Ron.

"Gran and I believe you too, Harry. She says if Dumbledore says You Know Who is back than he's back, and that the Prophet is a waste of good gold so she cancelled our subscription," added Neville.

"Thanks you guys." But it didn't cheer him up. This was probably just a taste of what this year was going to be like for him. By now everyone at Hogwarts probably thought he's a liar and an attention-seeking brat.

The carriage arrived at the castle front door and rolled to a stop. Everyone got out and headed up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall. Harry could hear the rest of the school noisily chattering in the Great Hall to their right. They were about to head in when Professor McGonagall rushed out and spotted them.

"There you are! Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger there is something I must tell you. Hogwarts has accepted a transfer student this year. She was sorted into Gryffindor over the summer. I want you two to escort her to the Gryffindor table."

"Yes, Professor. Who is she?" asked Hermione.

"Well she hasn't arrived yet but she –" Professor McGonagall broke off. "Ah there she is. Come here, dear. You had me worried."

McGonagall moved past Harry and dragged Morgan forward.

"Professor Dumbledore left specific instruction to make sure you were well situated here at Hogwarts," McGonagall said. "These two are Gryffindor Prefects. They will show you to Gryffindor Tower after the feast. I am Professor McGonagall and I am the Head of Gryffindor House."

Morgan nodded. "Yes, Professor."

McGonagall turned to Ron and Hermione. "I leave her in your care, prefects. Now hurry along. The Sorting is about to begin." She hurried off to the room where the first years usually wait.

"So, you're the er, new transfer student?" asked Ron.

"We never properly introduced ourselves. My name's Hermione Granger and I'm a Gryffindor Prefect," said Hermione. She held her hand out for Morgan to shake.

"I'm Morgan. Pleasure to meet you, Hermione."

"Ron Weasley. And can we get out of the Entrance Hall. I'd rather not be here when McGonagall comes back out with the first years."

Everyone nodded and they hurried into the Great Hall. Luna waved goodbye as she joined the Ravenclaws at their table. The rest of them found seats next to Nearly Headless Nick at the end of the long table. Harry sat down with Ron and Hermione on one side and Morgan on the other. Ginny and Neville took their seats across from them, next to Nick.

The Great Hall's doors opened and McGonagall led the first years in. While they passed by, Harry scanned the staff's table. To Harry's surprise, Hagrid was missing, and there was a new face among the teachers. She was squat woman wearing a repulsively pink suit and a black bow in her mousy hair. She reminded Harry of a toad, which jogged his memory as he realized he'd seen her before. She was at his hearing over the summer.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who was smiling warmly as he looked around the room. Harry subconsciously willed Dumbledore to look at him.

_Look at me damn it!_

They made eye contact for the first time after a month of nothing. Suddenly, a flash of pain erupted from his scar.

"Argh!" Harry gripped his head and curled up into a ball. The pain was so intense. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep quiet as the Sorting Hat started to talk. He didn't hear any of its words. All he could hear was the pounding in his ears as thousands of invisible knives stabbed him where his scar was.

_ What was going on? His scar never hurt like this before._

_

* * *

  
_

"Harry!"

Morgan turned to see Hermione shaking Harry, who was doubled over in his seat.

"What's wrong?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

Morgan laid a hand on his back and felt pain shoot up her arm and into her head. It was his pain she was feeling and it was intense. Morgan gritted her teeth and pushed passed the pain, sending her mind into his. Something was struggling inside Harry's mind – a different entity. It was kind of like her demon, but more foreign. Morgan followed the path and found another mind immersed in fury.

This must be the cause of Harry's pain, she thought. She had no idea what this was but if she wanted to prevent Harry from having a seizure, she had to close off the connection. Morgan tried severing the link between the boy and this other entity but couldn't do it no matter how hard she tried.

Suddenly, something pushed back and the demon in her came roaring to the foreground. It was like the chains had disappeared and the demon was free. Morgan clamped down on its mind, restraining it and pulling it back into her subconscious. It was difficult. She reconstructed chains with her mind, just like Isis had taught her. The demon didn't go down quietly. It fought with a made fury to get free but Morgan's will won out in the end. Finally, after her own demon was chained, she returned her attention back to Harry's problem.

_What was going on?_

Harry's pain was increasing and Morgan feared he may not last much longer so she constructed a hasty wall that would dampen the link. Morgan knew her strength quickly fading but she needed to reinforce the walls. Mustering the last of her strength, she doubled the walls before finally pulling out of his mind and returning to her own.

Morgan blinked and fought off a wave of nausea that always occurred when she performed any telepathic magic. Luckily, the nausea passed fairly quickly but her body felt like it weighed a ton. She rested her head on the table for a moment before glancing in Harry's direction. Thankfully he looked like he had recovered. Hermione was busy trying to make him drink some juice as Professor McGonagall finished reading off the list of first years.

_That took longer than I expected._

Morgan glanced up at the staff table to see Dumbledore watching with worry in his eyes. Morgan shook her head, sending him a mental message that she'll report later tonight in his office.

Dumbledore nodded subtly and returned his attention to the sorting.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was just my scar…"

"If it was your scar than you should tell Dumbledore –"

"No, I'm fine," hissed Harry.

"Well, at least tell Snuffles –"

"No. The last thing I need is for him to come marching into Hogwarts because of my scar."

The Sorting had finished and Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts. I trust you are all famished so I will make a few quick announcements and then we can all tuck in. First off, I would like to welcome Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures. Next, Professor Dolores Umbridge, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Everyone clapped as both professors stood up.

"Now, Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students and that –"H""'""ksfasdfsfd

"Ah hem," interrupted Professor Umbridge, getting out of her seat. "Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. Before you continue, I would like to say something."

Everyone in the Hall gaped at the woman and Morgan guess it was because no one normally interrupts the Headmaster when he is making announcements.

But Dumbledore didn't seem the least offended. "Of course. Please," he said very courteously.

The woman stepped forward to address the hall. "It's so wonderful to see all your smiling and happy faces I hope we can all become good friends," she said in a high, girlish voice. "The Ministry of Magic has always…"

Morgan rested her head down on the table and shut her eyes as the woman launched into the longest speech she had ever heard. Her annoying high pitched voice seemed to make the headache that Morgan had suddenly acquired twice as worse. Half the Hall was chatting with their neighbors while the other half was waiting impatiently for Umbridge to shut up so they could eat.

Ron was obviously one of the latter.

"Urgh, I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff," he groaned.

"Sssh," hissed Hermione, who was listening intently to Professor Umbridge's speech. "Don't you get it? The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts. That woman is clearly working for Fudge."

"I don't care if she's working for You Know Who himself. I just want the feast to start."

"Ron!"

_So that was what Dumbledore meant when he said to keep an eye out for the Ministry. They were a threat to Harry too._

"Is everyone out to get this guy?" she muttered to the table.

Finally, Umbridge ended her speech and the hall cheered. Dumbledore stood up, still applauding. "Thank you, Dolores. Now, let the feast begin."

Suddenly, the plates before them were filled with food. Everyone quickly dug in, piling their plates high with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and all sorts of other foods. Morgan had never seen so much food on one table in her life. The food seemed to do wonders on her headache and she was starting to feel her strength coming back.

Slowly, conversation broke out along the table as people asked how each other's summer was. Morgan preferred to listen rather than talk as she ate. It wasn't until Hermione leaned over and asked her what year she was in, that Morgan actually spoke.

"I'm supposed to be a fifth year this year."

"Really? So you're in our year? What school did you go to?" asked Hermione.

"I was home schooled."

"Wow, what was it like? Did your parents teach you?"

"No, my guardian taught me."

"Guardian? Where are your parents?" asked Ron, between bites of his chicken.

Morgan remained silent. That part of her past she didn't talk about, especially with strangers. Not even her best friends knew about her past. It was one of the Sorcery's customs to never ask about another's family and loved ones. But what did you expect from a race whose numbers were so few? The less the enemy knows about you, the less he can use against you; that's what Ransho had taught them.

"Hello? Morgan?" waved Hermione.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Hermione, but I don't talk about my family."

"Hmm? How come?" asked Ron with his mouth full.

Morgan shrugged. She knew they were giving her funny looks but she remained silent and ignored them. Dessert arrived and Morgan helped herself to some sweets that she'd never seen before.

_What's a treacle tart?_

Lucky for Morgan, the conversation steered back to summer break, but it ended up with Harry having an argument with Seamus about Voldemort's return. Morgan was wondering if she needed to remove Harry vocal cords before things escalated into fist fight when the desserts vanished and Dumbledore stood. The Hall quieted as everyone's attention went to the Headmaster.

"And now that we have all been fed, off to bed with you."

The students rose and exited the Great Hall in waves.

"Come on, Ron! We're supposed to lead the first years to the Tower," said Hermione. "First years, over here!"

"Oy, midgets, get over here."

Hermione elbowed Ron in the rib. "Ron!"

"What? They're short enough."

"I'll see you guys in the common room then. What's the password?" asked Harry.

"Er…"

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," replied Hermione. "First years! This way, follow me!"

Harry turned and left the Great Hall.

Though Morgan was supposed to stick with Ron and Hermione, like McGonagall instructed, she decided to follow Harry. She caught up to him as he reached the marble staircase. She followed silently behind as Neville started chatting with Harry on how he'll finally be able to remember the password.

As they walked, Morgan noticed many students pointing and whispering about Harry. They weren't being very discreet about it either, especially the first years. They practically ran when they passed by him, following their respective prefects to their common rooms. The older students seemed to be eyeing Harry with dislike, though Morgan had no idea why.

What did Harry do to make so many people dislike him?

Several flights of stairs and countless corridors later, Morgan, Harry, and Neville stood in front of a portrait of a very fat lady.

"Password?" she asked.

Morgan jumped with surprised that the picture could talk.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia."

"Correct." The portrait swung open, revealing a hole for them to climb through.

Morgan's mouth hung open as she gazed around the common room. It was a very cozy room with plenty of couches, armchairs, and tables for the students to study on. Already, there were people lounging around, chatting or playing chess. The fireplace took up the center of the left wall and currently had a fire roaring in its mouth. Towards the back of the common room was a spiral staircase that probably led to the sleeping quarters.

"Hey! Weren't you supposed to stay with Ron and Hermione?" asked Harry, finally noticing her.

Morgan shrugged. "I followed you since they looked like they had their hands full."

Just then the portrait hole opened and Ron and Hermione climbed in, followed by a line of first years.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Back there is the staircase that will take you to your dormitories. Boys dormitories are on the right and the girls are on the left," explained Hermione. She then proceeded to take the girls up to their rooms while Ron took the boys to theirs.

Morgan settled herself by the window and gazed out onto the grounds. It was cloudy night and she could barely see anything. Every now and then, a hint of moonlight would sneak through the clouds but overall everything was black outside. She could see her reflection clearly in the window. The incident with the demon in the Great Hall had really scared her, and she was surprised her eye hadn't turned pink again.

_But why did the chains suddenly snap?_

A hand suddenly tapped her shoulder, making Morgan jump. Morgan turned to see Hermione standing there with her hands on her hips, looking slightly annoyed. "You know you gave us a scare, back in the Great Hall. I thought we lost you. McGonagall told us to escort you to Gryffindor Tower. Why did you run off like that?"

"Sorry, Hermione. You guys looked preoccupied so I just followed Harry up here. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Hermione sighed. "It's all right. Though now we have the question of where you'll be sleeping." She scratched her head. "McGonagall never said which room you're going to be in…"

Just then the portrait hole opened and Professor McGonagall stepped in. She looked around the common room until she spotted them and came over.

"There you are. Thank you, Miss Granger. I'll take it from here. You're dismissed."

Hermione nodded and went over to where Ron and Harry were sitting by the fireplace. Morgan was watching Harry as he glared at the fireplace looking like he wanted to bite the head off the next person who provoked him when McGonagall came into her line of vision.

"It's time for us to report to the headmaster, Morgan," she said softly.

Morgan nodded and followed her out of the cozy Gryffindor common room, casting a quick illusion so that no one would notice them leaving.

* * *

Dumbledore's pacing was making Morgan sleepy. He was like a pendulum swinging back and forth and making her eyes feel heavier and heavier with each swing. She stifled a yawn as the headmaster walked by. Under normal circumstances, Morgan would have been captivated by his office, with all its interesting instruments and portraits of headmasters past, but right now she was just too tired to care. Her body and mind were exhausted and all she could think about was how good it would feel to finally rest her head on a pillow.

"What is it, Albus?" asked McGonagall anxiously.

Dumbledore paused and turned to Morgan again. "Please repeat what you said earlier about the train ride." His eyes were closed as he listened intently.

Morgan sighed. "About an hour in, the bridge that goes over a river was demolished by some black entity. I didn't get a good look at what it was, but I did know that it had somehow destroyed the entire bridge and we were about to go over the cliff. I cast an illusion around the train and then lifted the tracks out of the water so the train could cross the river safely."

_Man, even talking is making me tired…_

Dumbledore resumed his pacing. Then he paused by his desk where a stone basin with slivery liquid was sitting. He put the tip of his wand to the side of his head and slowly pulled his wand. A stream of silver liquid came out of his temple and floated gently into the bowl.

"Something is amiss here…" Dumbledore muttered. "Why would Voldemort attack the train?"

"Maybe he wants Harry dead as soon as possible?" said Morgan.

"I assure you, the Dark Lord would not do something as crass as destroying a bridge to kill Potter," said a man, who was standing next to McGonagall.

"Severus, what do you think," asked Dumbledore. He obviously thought highly of this greasy haired man's opinion. The man had a hooked nose and seemed to wear a constant sneer on his face. Personally, Morgan thought he looked like the most unpleasant man in this world.

"The Dark Lord gave no such order for his Death Eaters to destroy the bridge, that I am confident. Also, the Dark Lord would insist he'd be the one to kill Potter."

"If this isn't his doing then whose?" asked McGonagall.

"That I do not know," whispered Dumbledore gravely. "An enemy in the shadows… this is troubling. What do you think, Morgan?"

"Huh?" Morgan yawned and rubbed her eyes. "If it wasn't the Death Eaters, then I wouldn't know who else it could be. But you know, you should talk some sense into Harry. He's out for blood this year. I've never seen someone with so much pent up anger." Morgan yawned again.

"I suspect it has to do with his connection with Voldemort," replied Dumbledore.

"So that's what that was," muttered Morgan.

_But why did my demon snap like that? Was it drawn by Voldemort's dark soul?_

"Something troubling you, Morgan?" asked Dumbledore, peering over his half-moon spectacle to watch her carefully.

Morgan shook her head. "No, sir. Just tired."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, you are dismissed. Minerva, please escort her back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Morgan trudged after McGonagall as she held the door open for her. She really needed some sleep.

_First thing, shower, then I'll try and get what little sleep is left of this night…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
**

Morgan woke when someone pulled open the blinds to the window. Sunlight streamed in and Morgan hissed as the light hit her straight in the face.

She sat up and glared at the window. Oh how I hate thee, morning sun, she thought with venom in her heart. She took her time getting out of bed. The others had left for breakfast when she finally stepped out of the shower to dress. By the time she got to the common room, it was 8:10.

"Oh shoot." Morgan hurried out of the portrait hole and rushed down the corridor but skidded to a stop when she realized she had absolutely no idea how to get back to the Great Hall.

"Damn it, I knew I should have been paying attention to where I was going last night."

She took off in a general direction thinking that as long as she headed _down_ she was sure to end up in the Entrance Hall. A half hour later, she was cursing as she marched down another unfamiliar corridor. She cursed her stupid luck, the stupid school, and everything else that got in her way, like stupid doors that wouldn't open. Finally she found the grand staircase and saw she had a lot of climbing down to do.

_If it wasn't for this damn skirt I'd jump down to save time._

Morgan ran as fast as she could – trying hard not to miss a step or she'd fall and crack her head open. It didn't help that the staircases moved and changed landings right after she got off them. She was two staircases from reaching the ground floor when she crashed into someone on the landing.

"Wah!!" Morgan stumbled back and fell on her butt. "What the -?"

She looked up to see a floating man with an equality confused look on his face; that is, before it turned into a mischievous grin. He wore a strange hat with bells on it, an orange bow-tie, green vest with white shirt underneath, and weird stripped brown pants with pointed shoes. He resembled a picture of an elf Morgan had seen in a children's picture book.

"Ooh who do we have here? Icky firstie maybe?" he crackled. "Going to be late for breakfast if you don't hurry, firstie. Don't worry, Old Peeves will help you."

Something about the way he said that gave Morgan a distinct impression that his 'help' was something she could do without.

"No thanks, I can manage on me own."

"Aw but then old Peeves won't have his fun." A bundle of sticks appeared around him. "Run run run firstie, or old Peeves will give you a good clubbing."

Morgan dodged the first wave as the sticks swung at her. She took off down the stairs as fast as she could, but not fast enough. Peeves continued to pelt her with sticks as she reached the Entrance Hall.

"Hey! What is your problem? Leave me alone!" Morgan grabbed one of the sticks that were hitting her over the head and swung back at Peeves. He dodged it easily, flipped upside down, and blew a raspberry at her.

"Try and catch old Peeves if you can, firstie," he crackled. He vanished and reappeared behind her, snatched her bag out of her hand and dangling it above her head. "Jump, little firstie, if you want it back."

"That's it!" Morgan growled. She leaped into the air, using a bit of sorcery to increase her height and caught Peeves off guard as she brought the stick down on his head. Unfortunately, Peeves didn't let go of her bag as he yowled in pain and zoomed off into the Great Hall.

"Come back here!" she shouted. She kept swinging the stick, trying to stop him, as she gave chase. She burst into the Great Hall and found a thousand pairs of eyes staring at her. It was then that she realized she must look like a lunatic. Her robe was hanging off on one shoulder and she had a two foot long stick raised in one hand like she was about to club someone.

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment as she hid the stick behind her. Suddenly her bag landed on her head, making her see stars. Peeves crackled from above as he zoomed out of the hall.

Cursing under her breath, she straightened her robes and marched to the Gryffindor table, determined to ignore all the curious eyes as she took her seat at the very end. She had just sat down to eat when a fluttering of wings caught her attention. Morgan looked up to see a cloud of owls fly in from… the sky?

Morgan blinked in surprised. For a second there, she thought the Great Hall had no roof, but when she looked closely she realized there was an illusion spell on the roof that made it appear like the sky outside. The weather seemed to have quickly turned cloudy compared to the bright sunlight from an hour ago. There was no sunlight, only ominous gray clouds.

The owls descended and swooped up and down the four long tables, dropping letters and packages to their respective owners. Among the cloud of white, brown, and black feathers, she spotted a small yellow bird flying around in circles.

"Leita!"

"Morgan!" Leita chirped as she landed rather clumsily on the table. There was a package tied to her leg that was twice as big as her.

"Hey, Leita! How have you been?"

"Good. I never delivered a package before but Laris put a spell on it to make it lighter. The owls were really nice too. They showed me how to get here and everything," she chirped excitedly.

"Well, that's good to hear. What did you bring me?" asked Morgan, untying the parcel from Leita's leg.

"The package is from Matt and there's a letter inside from Laris."

Morgan offered her some toast as she ripped open the paper wrappings. A white envelope fell out and inside was a small box that was slightly larger than her hand. She decided to open the letter first.

_Dear Morgan,_

_ Hope your first day goes well. Good luck and write back soon. We miss you!_

_ ~Laris_

Morgan smiled and made a mental note to write an extra long letter for her tomorrow. She tucked the letter into the pocket of her robe and picked up the box from Matthew. There was a small note scribbled on the cover of the box.

_You left this back in the Forest. I thought you'd like to have it back but I hope you don't have to use it for anything other than cutting Potion ingredients. Keep your eyes open and good luck!_

_ ~ Matthew_

"What is he –?" She opened the box and saw a familiar handle poking out of a bundle of leather. "My dagger! Is he crazy? Of all the things to send me via mail –"

"But he was worried about you," said Leita.

Morgan sighed. "Well he should stop worrying. It's only the first day." Morgan offered Leita a sip of some juice as she ate her breakfast. She was halfway through her plate when she spotted Professor McGonagall walking down the Gryffindor table passing out papers that Morgan guessed were their class schedules.

"Are you heading back now?" asked Morgan quietly.

Leita shrugged her little feathered shoulders. "I can stay if you want or I'll just come back tomorrow for your letter."

Morgan contemplated if she should take out a roll of parchment and scribble down what happened yesterday. She had already reported everything to Dumbledore last night, and she was feeling exhausted from yesterday's excursions. She supposed she should keep the Sorcery updated as well.

"Alright, sit tight. I'll write a short note to Laris and Matt." Morgan pulled out parchment and quill and quickly scribbled:

_Hey guys,_

_ There was trouble on the train but nothing I can't handle. The kid's a real hot head and so are his friends. Class is about to start but let's just say from my experience so far, Dumbledore better send me a map or I'll start blasting my way through walls to get to my class. There's just way too many corridors and staircases here. Hogwarts makes the School seem like a box. I miss you guys already and thanks, Matt, for the gift. I promise to write a longer letter tomorrow. _

_ ~ Morgan_

Morgan had just finished signing the letter when Professor McGonagall spoke from behind her. "Oh good, I see you made it back to the Great Hall. I trust you settled in nicely?"

Morgan nodded.

"Here is your schedule. Weasley and Granger will show you the way to all your classes. Class will be starting soon so I suggest you finish your breakfast and head on up to History of Magic."

"Thank you, Professor." Morgan quickly tied the letter to Leita's leg and watched her fly off as she repacked her bag. She had her last piece of toast dangling out of her mouth as she rushed out of the Great Hall. She looked around but couldn't find Hermione or Ron anywhere. They probably already left, she thought.

She checked her schedule to see where the History of Magic classroom was located and was dismayed to find that there was no map attached to her schedule. "Now what am I going to do?"

"Looks like your silly bird is still alive," sneered someone from behind her. Morgan turned to see Draco standing in the Great hall's door way with his two lackeys behind him. "Where's your friend? Too scared to come to Hogwarts?"

"That's none of your business." This guy had the worst timing. It was bad enough Morgan had no idea where her first class was. She did not need this right now.

"I bet she was so scared she ran home to mommy." His friends snickered dumbly next to him. "What a stupid Mudblood girl."

Morgan frowned. She may not know what a Mudblood was but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was calling Laris something vile.

"What? Nothing to say, little girl?" he sneered.

"I have nothing to say to a spoiled brat like you," said Morgan coldly. She would like nothing better than to pound his face into a bloody pulp but she had been taught better. Instead she turned her back to him and marched off, towards the marble staircase, where the general population of students were headed. Maybe one of them could tell her where the History of Magic class was located.

Suddenly, her path was blocked by a group of Slytherin girls. The leader was a mean looking girl with a scrunch up nose and dark brown eyes. Her hair was short and black and she held herself as if she was better than everyone else. She had her arms crossed and was looking down at Morgan like she was an insect.

"No one talks to a Pure blood like that, you filthy Muggle-born," she sneered.

Morgan gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Not another one. "Look, I'm not looking for a fight so could you please move so I can get to class?"

"Apologize on your knees to Draco and then we'll move."

Morgan snorted. "Not likely unless he returns the favor."

"Me? Apologize to you?" Malfoy laughed. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, you're a filthy Mudblood and you know it."

Morgan glanced down at her watch. She was going to be late if she couldn't resolve this mess. She silently cursed the stupid assignment that was restricting her from giving these snot-nosed kids a good beating.

_Man, all those hours training with Matt were a waste if I get beat up by the likes of them._

"Mudblood, Pure blood… Whatever. Now excuse me because I really need to get to class." Morgan tried to move past the girls but they formed a wall, blocking her path to the stairs. "Okay, now I'm getting really annoyed with this."

"So what are you going to do, Mudblood? Start a fight? You're outnumbered and there's no one to come rescue you," sneered the girl. "Plus, Draco and I are prefects. That means you have to listen to us."

"Don't you guys have class to get to?" asked Morgan.

"My point exactly," came Professor McGonagall from behind them.

Everyone turned to see her with her arms crossed and her wand in one hand. Her black hair was in a tight bun and she was dressed in emerald green robes. She was glaring at them through her square glasses and the look on her face said woe to those who cross her this morning – namely them.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have class in five minutes. I suggest you hurry along before I report all of you to Professor Snape," she barked.

"Feh." Malfoy and the other Slytherins reluctantly moved past Morgan and up the marble staircase, muttering to themselves.

"And as for you, I thought I told you to follow Ms. Granger or Mr. Weasley to your class. Why are you still here?"

"Sorry, Professor, I must have missed them."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Very well, I shall escort you then. Come along."

Morgan found that she was hard pressed with keeping up with McGonagall's brisk walk. The woman led her up a flight of stairs and down a corridor whose many doors were apparently classrooms.

"Professor Binn's classroom is at the end of this hall and the second to last door on your left. This had better be the last time you are late to a class," she warned. She then turned and headed back down the hall to her classroom.

Morgan sighed, thinking the day couldn't have started out any worse. First she got lost going to breakfast, then she gets attacked by Peeves, followed by being harassed by Malfoy and crew, and now this.

_I just need to keep myself from straying into the spot light. Half the school probably thinks I'm a lunatic. I just hope the other half won't notice me. _

She approached the History of Magic classroom and took a deep breath. _Stay out of the spot light and do your job, Morgan._

Morgan opened the door and stepped in. At first, she thought she was in the wrong classroom. Everyone either had their heads down sleeping or gazing off aimlessly as the teacher droned on.

_Did someone cast a sleep spell or something?_

Morgan spotted an empty seat in the back and tried to quietly make her way there. Unfortunately, the entire class decided that she was more interesting than what the teacher was saying because they watched her curiously the whole way there. A murmur of voices spread as Morgan sat down next to Neville.

At least the teacher hasn't noticed, thought Morgan, pulling out parchment and quill to start taking notes. She looked up and gaped to find that the teacher was a ghost – a transparent, pearly white ghost.

"Hey, Morgan," whispered Neville. "Why were you late?"

His question brought Morgan out of her stupor. She quickly shook her head and dipped her quill in the ink well. "I got lost," she whispered back as she began taking notes.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Morgan started feeling the effects of Binn's monotonous voice.

_So this is the elusive sleep spell that's making everyone fall asleep…_

Morgan could feel her eyes dropping as she tried her best to pay attention to the ghost's lecture. She looked down on her parchment and realized that her quill had made a giant blotch of ink from resting on the same spot for the past ten minutes. Next to her, she could hear Neville snoring but it wasn't loud enough to drone out Professor Binn's voice. Looking around, Morgan noticed people were doodling on their papers. She could see Ron and Harry scribbling on Ron's parchment, but Hermione was surprisingly taking notes.

Morgan glanced down at her own notes again and sighed softly. It was completely illegible.

_At least I know that the subject is giant wars. I guess I'll have to research everything since I can't pay attention in this class._

Morgan groaned with the rest of the Gryffindors at the end of class when Binns assigned them a 12 inch essay on the first giant war of the 1400s. She packed her bag and hung back as she followed the Gryffindors out of the classroom. She checked her schedule and was depressed to find that they had an hour break before heading for double Potions.

Morgan wondered what she was supposed to do for the next hour. She considered going to the library to start on the essay that had just been assigned, but that would require her to first research the giant war since her notes were useless. That in itself would take more than an hour. And there was also the fact that she was supposed to be Harry's body guard while at Hogwarts.

_Even if I go to the library, I'll probably get lost on the way to class. I should just tail Harry for the next hour. He's probably headed for the Gryffindor common room anyways…_

Morgan glanced up to find that she had somehow wandered in the wrong direction and lost sight of her classmates. There wasn't a single Gryffindor in sight as Morgan waded through the sea of black robes. Morgan was once again lost and had no idea which way was the Gryffindor common room or her next class. She managed to make her way to the marble staircase without getting trampled by the students rushing to their next class and she paused to catch her breath. She then made her way back to Gryffindor common room in under ten minutes, but a quick look around told her Harry wasn't there.

"Damn it. Where did that boy go off to?" she muttered. "I don't have time to comb the entire castle for him."

She quickly returned to the marble staircase and made sure she was alone before summoning her scry stone. Closing her eyes and emptying her mind, she concentrated on Harry. An image of Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared in Morgan's mind. They were hanging around outside in the courtyard chatting. As Morgan watched, a Ravenclaw girl approached the trio, greeting Harry.

Morgan quickly vanished her scry stone and headed back downstairs. She only hoped they weren't going to go anywhere by the time she got to the ground floor. She was halfway down her second staircase when suddenly the staircase shook and moved to a different landing. Morgan staggered and gripped the railing as the stone shifted.

"Of all the things to happen…" She descended onto the new landing and realized that there were no connecting staircases that led down to the next floor. Cursing her luck, she decided to try that floor and look for another staircase that could take her to the Entrance Hall.

As it turned out, she only got more lost. Morgan checked her watch and realized she only had five minutes left before the hour break was over. Morgan glanced out the window to see a lake and a forest. Looking down, she guessed she was somewhere on the fourth floor.

"Ok, I think I've reached the end of my patience with this castle."

Morgan pushed open the window and leaned out to make sure no one was around. She did a quick check of the corridor she was on and was relieved to see it was still deserted. She pushed herself through the window ledge and stepped out on air – well, more like floated on air.

_ I know I should feel guilty over using so much sorcery in one day, but honestly, whoever said patience is a virtue should try their precious patience in this castle._

Morgan descended down the side of the castle wall, avoiding windows where students were packing their bags as class ended. She reached the ground just as the bell rang.

_Crap! I have no idea where Potions is!_

Morgan rushed back inside and checked her schedule. It said that Potions was held in the dungeons.

_Dungeons? Dungeons is underground right? How do I get down there?_

She caught a flash of red among the mass of students and rushed towards it, thinking it was Ron. She run up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Ron, I'm so glad I – " Morgan broke off as she realized the redhead wasn't Ron. He looked like he could be Ron's brother though. They had the same flaming red hair, freckled complexion, and blue eyes but Ron was gangly while this boy was stocky. "Opps, wrong person. Sorry."

"Are you looking for my brother?" he asked.

"Er, I'm looking for Ron Weasley. We have Potions next and he's supposed to show me the way."

"You don't know where Potions is?" Morgan almost had a heart attack when an exact replica of the boy popped up on her left. They were giving her curious, identical looks. "Are you a first year?"

"No, I'm a transfer student."

"Never knew we had any. Name's Fred," said the first boy. "This is my twin brother, George. We're Ron's older brothers. You're a fifth year, right?"

Morgan nodded. "Would you guys happen to know where Ron is?"

"Nope. But we can tell you where Potions is," said George.

"Take the stairs down that hall over there," pointed Fred.

"Follow the corridor and make a right," continued George.

"And you'll come to a hall where the dungeons are."

"Snape's door in the first one on your right."

"Better hurry."

"Or you'll be late."

"Er, thanks Fred, George." Morgan headed off feeling slightly dizzy. She had barely set foot on the staircase when the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

"Crap!"

Morgan practically leaped off the staircase and ran as fast as she could down the dark corridor. She skidded as she rounded the corner and made a leap for the handle of the door. She yanked it opened and rushed inside.

"Sorry I'm late Professor. I –"

"There is no excuse for tardiness, Miss Risika," said a familiar cold voice. Morgan flinched instinctively as the sound of her last name. She looked up and realized the speaker was the same man that was in Dumbledore's office last night when she had been giving her report. "Five points from Gryffindor. Now take your seat."

_Points?_

Morgan scanned the room and realized there was only one seat left and it was at the front of the classroom. And what's worse, it looked like Gryffindor was having Potions with Slytherin and the Slytherins where all occupying the front half of the classroom. She was vaguely aware that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the back of the classroom with the other Gryffindors as she took her seat at the empty table right in front of Snape's desk. Around her, the Slytherins were snickering at her.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted," said Snape, casting a glare at Morgan. "This year is your O.W.L.s. You will be sitting your exams next June and I am expecting an 'Acceptable' from every one of you. After this year, many of you will no longer be continuing in this subject as I only accept the very best in my N.E.W.T. Potions class. But whether you are attempting to enter my N.E.W.T. Potions class or not, all of you should concentrate on maintaining my high-pass expectation.

"Today you will be brewing a potion that often comes up on the O.W.L. – the Draught of Peace. Ingredients are already on the board and everything you need will be in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half to complete it. Begin."

Morgan sighed and was about to get up when Snape stepped in front of her.

"Despite the fact that you are a transfer student, I expect you to be capable of arriving to class on time. The next time you are late I will put you in detention. Is that clear, Miss Risika," he said quietly.

Morgan flinched again. "Yes, sir," she grumbled and got up to get her ingredients.

An hour later, Morgan was sweating from the heat of the flames. This potion was incredibly complicated. Everything had to be precisely done at precisely the right time. Morgan kept one eye on her watch and the other eye on her potion. For the moment, things seemed to look fine. She threw in the last ingredients and stirred the potion counter clockwise for a minute. The gray liquid in her cauldron lightened until it was a cool gray with silver vapor starting to emit from it.

Just then Snape came up behind her to inspect her potion, making her jump.

"It seems you've miraculously produced the Draught of Peace despite your apparent lack of ability to keep time, Miss Risika," he sneered. Without another word he moved away to inspect the other student's potion.

"I wish he'd stop calling me that," she muttered.

"What's wrong, Risika? Don't like your muggle-born surname?" sneered Malfoy. The other Slytherins laughed.

Morgan glanced to see that Snape was in the back, inspecting Harry's potion and probably couldn't hear anything that was going on up in the front of the classroom.

"I heard you're a transfer student," said the Slytherin girl that had blocked her way earlier. "Did your school expel you because they found out what a worthless Mudblood you are?"

"It's really none of your business, so would you kindly please stop harassing me," said Morgan as diplomatically as she could. She filled a flagon with her Draught of Peace and got up to place it on Snape's desk.

"Homework is a twelve inch parchment on moonstone and its uses in potion-making. You'll hand it in to me first thing on Thursday," said Snape as he headed towards his desk.

Morgan noticed that Harry was clearing away his things while everyone else was filling their flagons with their potion. Even from across the room, Morgan picked up Harry's anger seething along the surface of his mind.

Wondering what could have angered him this time, Morgan began to clean up her desk. Suddenly, something splashed onto her desk, quickly melting the wood and the few ingredients that were still on it. Morgan looked up to see the annoying Slytherin girl giggling girlishly. "Opps, how clumsy of me."

Morgan sighed irritably as she pulled her bag away from the mess only to realize the concoction had landed on the edge of her bag. Now she had a hole the size of her fist at the bottom, rendering the bag useless. Morgan groaned and glared at the girl who was innocently handing in her second flagon of her Draught of Peace.

"Bitch," Morgan muttered. She vanished all the contents of her bag and placed an illusion on the hole, making her bag seem whole again. This day was steadily getting worse and she had only made it till lunch.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The Dark Lord was seated in a red winged armchair as his Death Eaters entered the room. They were escorting a peculiar man dressed in a black tailored coat with gold embroidery and matching black pants. He had long blond hair and iridescent gold eyes. He was a man in his prime, tall and well-built. The man was ethereally beautiful… and cold-bloodedly dangerous. He held himself with arrogance and confidence, unafraid that he was surrounded by Death Eaters who could kill him with a flick of their wands.

He bowed to the Dark Lord with an air of respect and mockery. The Death Eaters hesitated, unsure if they should act at this subtle insult. But the Dark Lord waved them off and motioned for the man to sit in the armchair across from him.

The man took his seat and the Dark Lord spoke in a soft hiss. "What is your name, stranger? What purpose do you have here?"

The man leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands over one knee. He seemed relax as he smiled and spoke in a very cultured voice. "Call me Redia. And I have taken an interest in your work. It seems quite amusing."

"Amusing, you say. You enjoy killing muggles and Mudbloods?"

"Their lives are worthless so I see no reason for weaklings to exist," he said simply. "I suppose you can call me a free agent of sorts. I work for the highest bidder. But I've taken a special interest in you and your Death Eaters."

"I see. And what could you offer me?" asked the Dark Lord softly.

"You must have heard of the bridge that collapsed earlier this week, correct? A certain train heading for a certain castle usually traverses that bridge this time of year."

"So that was you, Redia. Interesting…" The Dark Lord stroked his giant female snake as he pondered over this news. "So you wish to join my Death Eaters and work for me?"

"No," Redia replied with a smile.

The Dark Lord arched a thin eyebrow. "No? Than what use are you to me?"

"I am offering my service as I am now, a free agent."

"Tell me, Redia. What good will a free agent do me when I will soon have an army of Death Eaters to command?"

"Ah, but that is the catch, isn't it? Until you have assembled your army, your men are few and limited in their movements, correct? Many of your Death Eaters are still behind bars so for the moment this," he waved his hand, "is all you have."

"Are you mocking me, Redia?" asked the Dark Lord in a cold, dangerous voice.

"Of course not, I am merely pointing out your current situation. Now what I am offering is the chance you need to assemble your forces without interference." Redia smiled.

"Continue."

"Well, I'm sure your enemies have already realized that it wasn't your Death Eaters that attacked the bridge. They must be scratching their heads, wondering who did it. Now consider what I offer as a free agent. I have already established myself as a separate entity from you and your Death Eaters. I now have their attention as a second enemy, with unknown motives and no identity. They'll be chasing a phantom enemy and their focus will be divided. I could be the distraction whilst you carry out your plans, undisturbed."

The Dark Lord laughed, amused. "An interesting idea, Redia. And naturally, you must keep your freedom and not wear my Dark Mark, least you be discovered, correct?"

Redia nodded his head courteously. "Naturally."

"Well, I must say this is a highly amusing proposition. You must either be a fool or very brave to come before me and tell me what I should do."

"I have no patience for fools and I consider bravery merely another name for fools with no sense of self-preservation. I came because I thought I could be useful to someone, like yourself, who understands when a world needs purging of the vermin that's infested it," said Redia casually. "So do we have a deal?"

The Dark Lord smiled. "I believe I've taken a liking to you, Redia. You are a sensible man and you know how to make a deal. I must say your offer is quite tempting. I will have to think over this. Wormtail," a small man with mousy features appeared from the shadows, "show our guest to a proper room and accommodate his needs. I will have your answer tomorrow, Redia."

Redia stood and bowed. "Thank you for your hospitality, my Lord."

The Dark Lord waved him off, returning his attention back to the fireplace. Redia could hear soft hissing emitting from the armchair as the Dark Lord spoke with his snake. Redia smiled to himself as he followed the man called Wormtail out of the room. The bait had been taken. The trap was set. Now all he had to do was wait…

* * *

Harry flinched and yanked his arm away from Umbridge. He had finally finished his last detention with the horrible woman and was showing her the cuts on the back of his hand when suddenly his scar seared with pain. It was fleeting, followed by a slight fluttering in his stomach.

He eyed Umbridge wearily as she smiled. "It hurts doesn't it?" Harry wasn't sure if she meant his scar or his hand but he bolted out of there as fast as he could. He tried to calm himself down as he made his way back to the common room.

_It can't be. It's not what you think… It just can't be –_

The portrait door swung open and he collided with someone who had been standing at the entrance.

"Sorry," he muttered as he looked up and found Morgan staring at him in surprise.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She glanced down, noticing Harry's hand, which was wrapped up in a handkerchief with dots of red. "You're bleeding!"

"It's nothing," he said and glanced over her shoulder. There was an uproar as people were celebrating something. "What's going on?"

"You're friend Ron made the Quidditch team. Are you sure you're okay? Because I don't think you should brush off a bleeding hand. It could get infected," she said with worry in her eyes.

"Thanks for your concern but I'm fine." Harry brushed passed her and headed for Ron, who immediately grinned brightly at him.

"Did you hear, mate? I'm made it! I'm Keeper!" he exclaimed with excitement. He was practically jumping up and down with joy.

"That's brilliant, Ron!"

"Hey Ron, come over here and try on Wood's old robes," called Angelina, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Ron hurried over, still grinning, while Harry made his way to Hermione, who was sitting in the corner, knitting hats for the house elves.

"Hey, Harry. I suppose you heard the good news."

"Yeah. Hey listen, I need to tell you something." He quickly relayed everything that had happened tonight with Umbridge. He even showed her his hand, making her gasp in horror.

"That woman is evil!" she exclaimed as Harry hastily rewrapped his hand.

"Yeah , I know. But you don't think maybe Voldemort is possessing her like he did Quirrell, do you?"

"Hmm, but You Know Who only did that because he didn't have a body back then. Now that he has a body, I don't think he can possess anyone. Maybe he's using the Impervious Curse or some other method of controlling her…" Hermione continued her knitting as she pondered over this. "I think you should tell Dumbledore, Harry. He'd want to know."

"No."

"But – "

"Look he doesn't need to be bothered by this. My scar hurt all the time last year. I'll just write to Sirius and see what he thinks."

"You can't put that in writing!" hissed Hermione. "Didn't you hear Moody? We don't know who could be intercepting our mail!"

"I'll be careful. I'm not that thick."

"Harry –"

Suddenly a white box was slammed down on the table in front of them, making both of them jump. They looked up to see Morgan standing with her hands on her hips.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Er… Hi Morgan –"

"Hand, Potter, now!" She barked and held out her hand for Harry's.

"What are you –?"

She impatiently grabbed Harry's wrist and shoved up the sleeves of his robes. His hand was poorly wrapped in the now blood-soaked handkerchief. Morgan tsked in disgust and quickly unwrapped his hand. Harry tried to pull his hand away to hide the cut but her grip on his wrist was iron-tight. She examined the cut on the back of his right hand. She didn't ask how he got the words 'I must not tell lies' carved into the back of his hand. She just examined the wound closely.

"You're lucky it isn't infected. That cloth is filthy from dried blood." She released his hand and opened the white box that Harry realized was a first-aid kit muggles used. She rummaged through the contents and pulled out two bottles and some bandages. "Give me your hand again, Potter," she ordered, kneeling down by his chair.

Harry reluctantly obeyed and flinched as she applied alcohol to the cut, disinfecting the wound. Then she opened the second bottle and applied an orange paste that smelled like a mixture of herbs and oranges. The paste was cool to the feel and soothed his hand. Finally, Morgan carefully wrapped his hand, asking every now and then if it was too tight or too loose.

"There, all done. You should keep that away from water for a day. And I suggest you don't overuse your hand tomorrow. The wound should close up by Sunday," said Morgan as she packed away her things.

"Er, thanks, Morgan."

Morgan nodded. "Well, good night."

"Good night," chimed Harry and Hermione as she left, heading up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

Harry gazed at his neatly bandaged hand in slight wonder.

"That was really nice of her," commented Hermione as she continued knitting the elf hat.

"She seems to have a split personality," said Harry. "On the Hogwarts Express she was down-right cold to me and even yelled at me. But then she suddenly comes and treats my hand… I just don't get her."

"Maybe she was sincerely worried about you?" suggested Hermione. "She's actually quite nice, you know. She even helps Neville in Potions so Snape doesn't bully him as much. I think she's just quiet, that's all."

Harry shrugged. "I think I'll go to bed too. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry."

* * *

Morgan appeared out of the shadows in Dumbledore's office an hour past midnight, dressed in her blue night gown, matching bathrobe, and an irritated scowl on her face. She did not appreciate these late night meetings, especially after such a long, grueling week.

"Professor Dumbledore, there had better be a good reason I had to get out of bed to come here in the middle of the night," she grumbled.

"I am sorry, Morgan, for disturbing your sleep. I heard you were hard pressed this week with your studies," said Dumbledore gently, his eyes warm with sympathy. "I simply wished to hear what you have noted about Harry."

Morgan shrugged. "He has a temper and it's always close to exploding. He already landed himself in detention with that Umbridge woman."

"Professor Umbridge," corrected Dumbledore.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "I don't know if you know this, but today his scar hurt. It wasn't as intense as the one during the Welcoming Feast. Potter was worried it had something to do with Umbridge."

"He confided this to you?" asked Dumbledore.

"No, sir. I was listening in on his thoughts. We're not exactly on speaking terms."

"Hmm, it do doubt that Harry's scar hurting has anything to do with Dolores Umbridge. It is probably a coincidence. His scar is a link to the Dark Lord's emotions. When the Dark Lord feels a strong emotion, Harry's scar will start to hurt." Dumbledore paused and scratched his beard, thinking. "You said that you placed a wall on the link between Voldemort and Harry, correct?"

Morgan nodded. "I suspect my wall is dampening the effects of their link. I estimate it'll be another two days before the walls start deteriorating."

"If it is not too much trouble, could I ask you to continue renewing those walls?" asked Dumbledore, sounding weary with exhaustion for once. Morgan suspected the Order was already giving him enough stress so she might as well help relieve some of his worries.

"No problem."

"Thank you, Morgan. You are dismissed."

Morgan nodded and sank into the floor, returning to her room.

She climbed back into bed but soon sat up again. "Well, I might as well do it now when everyone's asleep," she muttered. Morgan phased into her shadow and reappeared at the foot of Harry's bed. She glanced at his bandaged arm, glad to see that it hadn't come undone.

She placed her hand gently on the boy's forehead and entered his mind. She checked her walls and reinforced them, but just as she was about to pull out, her mind fell into Harry's dream.

They were travelling down a long, dark corridor and they were running faster and faster as they approached the end. A door came into view and excitement drove them to reach out and open it. But just as their hand closed around the doorknob, the dream ended and Harry woke up.

They both gasped in unison and Morgan dived under Harry's bed as he quickly reached for his glasses. "Who's there?"

Morgan mentally cursed herself for accidentally falling into his dream. She must have spent half the night by his bed, dreaming alongside him. That was a very stupid mistake on her part, she mentally scolded herself. She heard Harry climb off the bed and she saw his knees appear by her head. Just before Harry's head appeared, Morgan phased into the shadows and reappeared back in her bed, panting.

_Damn that was too close!_

She was covered in cold sweat. She sat up and checked the clock at her bedside. It was almost six in the morning. Morgan groaned and pulled the covers over her. A perfectly good night of sleep… wasted! She rolled over and after a half hour of lying there, she finally fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Morgan accompanied Hermione into the Great Hall. They had been chatting about Professor Sprout's essay on Self Fertilizing Shrubs that was due on Monday. Morgan promised to meet up with Hermione after breakfast in the library to work on the essay together. They sat down across from Ron and Harry, who greeted them as they filled their plates.

"You look very pleased this morning," said Hermione.

"Oh, really?" said Harry in a slightly distracted voice. "Well there's Quidditch later." He started eating his eggs with a strange happy look in his eyes that had the other three puzzled.

"Quidditch practice can't be that great," whispered Morgan to Hermione. "Can it?"

Hermione shrugged and whispered back, "Boys will be boys."

Morgan noted that Ron seemed a little pale and nervous as he ate his bacon. He glanced up at them before turning to Harry and asking, "Hey, you don't mind going out a little earlier to, you know, help me get the feel of flying and everything."

"Yeah, sure."

Hermione frowned and cleared her throat. "Don't you think you should use this time to catch up on your homework – especially you, Harry. All those detentions have really put you behind!"

"I second Hermione," said Morgan. "I told you yesterday to take it easy with that hand, Potter. I know you have to use it during practice later today but its best if you didn't strain yourself."

"Oh, and writing a foot long essay isn't straining my hand?" retorted Harry.

"Well, at least you won't fail your O.W.L.s," said Hermione.

"Yeah, but we'll lose the House Cup."

Just then the morning post arrived. A brown owl landed next to Hermione's plate holding a copy of the Daily Prophet in its beak. Following behind the owl was Leita, looking slightly rumpled. She chirped happily as she landed on Morgan's outstretched hand.

"Is that a canary?" asked Ron, surprised.

"I didn't know canaries could carry post," said Hermione. "You'd probably have to bewitch the letters to be extremely light for it to carry it. What's its name?"

"Leita." Morgan untied the letter from her leg. "She belongs to my friend back home. We write to each other every day." Morgan held up a small piece of toast for Leita to nibble on while she opened the letter. She read Laris' letter and smiled. It seems Matthew finally got up the nerves to ask Laris out on a date.

Good for them, thought Morgan, folding the letter and tucking it into her pocket. She would've written a reply right away but didn't feel comfortable writing it with so many people close by.

_No reply today?_ asked Leita in Morgan's head.

_No, I will, just later._

_Ok, then I'll hang around and wait for it._

"Hey, listen to this," said Hermione. "_Mysterious Explosion at King's Cross and Platform 9¾._"

"What?!" exclaimed Ron and Harry.

"The Ministry is conducting a thorough search of the remains of Platform 9¾, which had been destroyed by an explosion of unknown origins last night. Ministry officials say that a chain of explosions, beginning on Platform 9¾, continued on into the rest of King's Cross, causing so much destruction that the roof of the station collapsed. It's reported that there are over a hundred casualties – all muggles. Ministry officials say they can't explain what caused the explosion, only that it originated on Platform 9¾. It is possible this mysterious attack may be linked to the strange derailing of the Hogwarts Express while on its return journey to London earlier this week. 'There are no explanations for what caused either incidents,' said Minister Cornelius Fudge, 'but I have my suspicions that it is the work of Sirius Black, who is still at large.' The Ministry of Magic would like to remind everyone to steer clear of this man, if spotted, as he is a very dangerous man that had escaped from Azkaban two years ago. The Ministry also wishes to assure the parents of students attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that the platform and train will be repaired in time for the holidays."

"Bloody hell, what a mess," said Ron in disbelief.

Hermione nodded and opened the paper to read the other articles in the newspaper. "It's obviously You Know Who that's behind it."

"Yeah, but why would he attack King's Cross? It makes no sense. There's nothing to gain from it," said Harry.

"Maybe he was bored and felt like blowing something up," commented Morgan, sipping her orange juice. "You know, to let off some steam and what not."

The others stared at her like she was crazy.

"What?"

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort wouldn't do something like this for no reason. It's just not like him."

"Then who else could it be?" asked Ron (he had flinched when Harry said Voldemort).

Harry shrugged and got up. "Come on. Let's go practice some Quidditch or else we won't be able to stay on the team."

Ron nodded and rose.

"Fine, don't come crying to me when you two fail your O.W.L.s," said Hermione with her arms cross. When they had disappeared from sight, she sighed. "Those two…"

"So are you still up for tackling Professor Sprout's essay?" asked Morgan, grabbing her bag. "I'm off to the library."

Hermione nodded and folded up her newspaper. They left together for the library, with Leita perched on Morgan's shoulder, softly chirping a merry tune. They found a table in the Herbology section next to a window. Leita fluttered to the windowsill while Morgan unpacked her bag and pulled out some parchment and her quill.

Hermione came over with a stack of books. "Let's start with these as reference and we'll go from there."

"Okay."

A half hour of silence passed as the two girls worked on their paper. Morgan's concentration was broken when Leita spoke in her mind.

_Look Morgan! Your friends are flying!_

"Huh?" Morgan looked up to see Leita pointing with her wing out the window.

"Something wrong, Morgan?" asked Hermione.

Morgan stood up and looked out the window. Sure enough, she could see Ron's flaming red hair and Harry's jet black hair hovering in midair. From this distance, they were only blobs of color but they were zooming back and forth across a field that had three giant hoops on each end.

"Oh, I forgot we could see the Quidditch pitch from here," commented Hermione, who had come up behind Morgan to see what she was looking at. "Those two are really working hard out there."

"What exactly is Quidditch, Hermione?" asked Morgan. "I remember Dumbledore mentioning it in passing when we were in Diagon Alley…"

"You don't know what Quidditch is?" asked Hermione, surprised. "Well, don't let Ron or Harry catch you saying that. They'll think you've gone mental. Quidditch is a Wizarding sport. But honestly I don't think it's all that great."

"It's played on broomsticks, right?"

"Yeah and if you even mention the word 'broomsticks' to those two, they'll talk your ears off." Hermione returned to her seat and flipped through one of the books.

_Wow Morgan, isn't that so cool? Mortals can fly on pieces of wood. I didn't think anyone could fly unless they had wings,_ said Leita excitedly.

_Hey, I can fly, can't I? And you don't see me sprouting wings out of my back._

_ Yeah but you don't really fly. You just sort of … of… what's the word? Oh yeah, levitate._

Morgan snorted and rolled her eyes. _Same thing._

She returned to her essay but barely wrote a sentence before she noticed Hermione was studying her from across the table.

"What's up, Hermione?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment but then began carefully. "You know, last night I woke up in the middle of night to get some water, and I noticed you weren't in your bed. I don't been to be nosey but as a Prefect I should warn you that wandering around the school after hours is against the rules. I didn't really sleep the rest of the night because since I know you're still kind of new to Hogwarts, I wanted to make sure you knew the rules. But then, you didn't come back all night; yet when I got up for breakfast this morning you were in your bed. What were you doing last night?"

"I was, uh…I was enjoying the night air on the grounds. I kind of, uh lost track of time and fell asleep." She smiled, trying to make it seem genuine, but one look at Hermione's face told Morgan she didn't buy it.

"Just be warned, Morgan. You could get into a lot of trouble for being out of bounds at night." And she returned to her essay without another word.

The rest of the morning passed in silence. Leita complained constantly of boredom, making Morgan's head pound. She kept telling Leita to be quiet but Leita soon grew frustrated and started singing. Granted she didn't sing very loudly but it was loud enough that it brought the librarian, Madame Pince, to their table. She scolded Morgan for bringing a pet into the library. She ranted on about how the library was a place of study not a zoo and immediately threw her out of the library.

_Sorry Morgan._ Leita fluttered onto Morgan's shoulder and chirped an apologetic note.

"It's okay. It's almost time to lunch anyways."

Hermione soon joined them and together they returned to the Great Hall. They sat down next to Ron and Harry, who were already halfway through their lunch. They managed a greeting in between bites and Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"You know you two really should stop putting off your homework. If you keep this up, you'll never pass you O.W.L.s."

"Aw, come on, Hermione," said Ron with his mouth full. "Quidditch is important too. Besides, we have tomorrow to finish our homework."

Hermione huffed and started eating. She continued to cast glares at the two boys every now and then.

"How's your hand, Potter?" asked Morgan.

"It's fine. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"May I see it?"

Harry held out his hand while taking a swing of pumpkin juice with his other hand. Morgan undid the bandages and examined his hand. There was a faint white line where the words used to be but the skin was no longer broken. "Hmm, looks like it's all healed."

"That's great. Thank's Morgan."

Morgan nodded and returned to her lunch.

Leita chirped, trying to get Morgan's attention. _When are you going to write Laris' letter?_

_When I have time –_

"That bird still here?" asked Ron.

"Yeah she –"

"Harry! Ron! We're headed out to practice. Hurry up!" called Angelina, the Quidditch Captain. She motioned for them to follow her as she exited the Great Hall, followed by Fred and George Weasley.

"See you." Harry and Ron got up and hurried after her.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose we should go watch them. Ron could probably use the moral support, unless, of course you want to finish Sinistra's essay on Jupiter's moons."

"No, I finished that last night. I think I only have McGonagall's essay on Inanimatus Conjurus spell and I'm done," said Morgan, checking the list of homework assignment that she made during the week.

"Really? Wow, Morgan, you're ahead of me in homework," said Hermione in surprise.

They quickly finished their lunch and proceeded out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds, heading for the Quidditch pitch. Morgan gaped at the size of the stadium and how tall the stands were. There were already seven people flying about fifty feet in the air.

Morgan watched mesmerized as three girls tossed a red ball between each other while Ron waited in front of three hoops. Angelina leaned back and threw the red ball. Ron dived for it but barely missed as the ball flew through the right hoop.

"Gryffindors are losers! Gryffindors are loser!" chanted some people from the stands. Morgan looked to see a group of seven guys clad in green laughing and pointing at Ron.

"Oh lovely, the Slytherins are here too," muttered Hermione. "Come on, Morgan. Let's sit away from those idiots." They chose the stand closest to the Ron's goal posts. Hermione and Morgan tried to cheer him on, but the Slytherin's chants were drowning out their encouragements.

A half hour later, Angelina blew a whistle signaling the end of practice. Everyone seemed very down-spirited as they trudged off to the locker rooms. Worried, Hermione and Morgan ran down to catch up with them.

"I hope they didn't take those stupid Slytherins' chants to heart," said Morgan as she hopped off the last stair.

"Don't worry, we've never lost to Slytherin before. They'll pull through –"

"Well, if it isn't Granger and Risika," sneered Malfoy as he and the other Slytherins came down from the stands. "You Mudbloods trying to cheer on those pathetic losers?"

The Slytherins behind him sniggered.

"Shut up, Malfoy. You're just a sore loser," said Hermione.

"What do you know, Mudblood? You can't even fly on a broomstick. Quidditch is a pure blood's sport. Mudbloods and muggle-lovers like the Weasleys shouldn't even be allowed to play."

"You're just scared that they're going to beat you in the next match," said Hermione. "Come on, Morgan. Let's go." She turned and marched off to the locker room.

Morgan was about to turn and follow Hermione when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy raise his wand. Morgan acted on instinct threw up a barrier around Hermione just as a jet of red light shot out of Malfoy's wand. The spell rebounded off Morgan's barrier and back at Malfoy, who was knocked off his feet and landed on his back in the dirt. When he sat up, angry red welts had covered his face and looking like a swarm of invisible bees had just attacked him.

Malfoy screamed in pain as his face burned from the welts, which were starting to swell.

"Next time have the guts to attack us in the face, Malfoy," said Morgan as Malfoy's team mates rushed him back to the castle. "Cowards," she muttered.

"Um, thank you, Morgan," said Hermione. She was looking at Morgan funny and it made Morgan feel uncomfortable.

"Er, maybe we should catch up with Potter and Weasley."

"Sure…" She was still watching Morgan with that strange look, partly curious and partly amazed, as they headed for the changing room where Ron and Harry were waiting.

* * *

The four of them had just sat down for dinner when Professor McGonagall came marching towards them.

"Uh oh, someone's in for it. I've never seen McGonagall so angry before," muttered Ron. "I hope it's not about Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes."

"If it is then it would be your head she's after as well. You're their brother _and_ you're a prefect," hissed Hermione.

Just then, Professor McGonagall stopped in front of them with her hands on her hips.

Ron gulped and paled. "Hello Professor –"

"Miss Risika, come with me, immediately!" she barked.

Morgan flinched and got up, her plate untouched, and silently followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall.

"What do you reckon she did?" whispered Ron with a bit of relief in his voice.

Harry shrugged.

"I have a hunch it has to do with Malfoy," said Hermione, thoughtfully.

"Malfoy? What's he got to do with her?" asked Harry.

"Well, it was when you two were still changing in the locker room. Morgan and I were coming to meet you when we ran into the Slytherins. And of course, Malfoy resorted to the usual insults, but we gave him the cold shoulders. But apparently, as we were leaving Malfoy decided to have a go at me, but Morgan blocked his Stinging Hex. It rebounded and hit Malfoy. His teammates rushed him to the Hospital Wing, and I suspect he exaggerated what happened so now Morgan's in trouble."

"What? That git! We should do something. It's not fair if she gets in trouble for one of Malfoy's stupid lies," exclaimed Harry.

"I think she can handle it, Harry," said Hermione. "Besides I don't think we can do much for her. It's between her and McGonagall."

Harry frowned down at his plate.

"Still it wouldn't be fair if she got detention for using a shield charm to defend a fellow Gryffindor," said Hermione. "Maybe we can persuade McGonagall to lessen her punishment if things go bad. I'm sure she'll listen to us. Ron and I are prefects after all."

Harry nodded and then changed to topic to homework with Ron. They discussed their 'battle strategy' for tonight to see which assignment they could get done before going to bed.

* * *

Morgan found herself in the Staff room where she was seated in an armchair and facing Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, who were looming over her.

"Do you know why you are here, Miss Risika?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"I suspect it has something to do with Malfoy?" replied Morgan. She'd finally gotten used to hearing her last name but she still flinched when McGonagall said it in that strict voice.

"Precisely," said Snape. "Mr. Malfoy just informed me of an interesting story. He and several other eye witnesses claim you cast the Stinging Hex on him while he was leaving the Quidditch pitch."

"He's lying."

Snape arched a brow. "Oh, really? But he has six eye witnesses."

"Hermione can vouch for me," said Morgan confidently.

"Strange, I recall Mr. Malfoy saying Miss Granger had her back turned when he was hit with the Stinging Hex." A small smile appeared on his lips.

Morgan frowned, not liking how this was turning out.

"And, as you know, it is against School rules to duel on the grounds, including the Quidditch pitch – and don't think you are excused from punishment because you are a transfer student."

"I never planned to use that as an excuse," said Morgan coldly, crossing her arms. "But it's hard to believe that a full grown man, like yourself, would believe the silly lies of a child like Malfoy and his cronies."

"Miss Risika, that is no way to speak to a teacher," snapped McGonagall. "Now, as your Head of House, I will have to decide your punishment. Seeing as you have no witness to support your version, I'm afraid I have no choice but to believe Mr. Malfoy's story. Ten points from Gryffindor and detention, Miss Risika."

Morgan frowned. "You know, there's a very simple way of proving Malfoy is lying." She turned to Snape. "You have the power to see into his mind, don't you Professor? What's it called again? Legilimency? Why don't you use that on Malfoy?"

Snape snorted. "Silly girl, it's against school rules for me to perform Legilimency on students."

"Use truth serum then. Add a few drops of Veritaserum to Malfoy's drink and question him."

"Again, that is against school rules. And may I inquire why you are so intent on proving you are correct?"

"Obviously it's because I don't like being punished for something I didn't do," snapped Morgan.

"Enough. Miss Risika, you will report to my office on Monday night at seven to serve your detention," said McGonagall. "You're dismissed."

Irritated with both of them, she stormed out of the staffroom with her hands balled into fists at her side. She couldn't believe she was being punished for that brat's actions. The injustice of it all!

Morgan made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, thinking darkly that if she ran into Malfoy on her way there she'd beat him to a bloody pulp. At least that way she can be justly punished. But to her dismay, she didn't meet anyone as she climbed the grand staircase to the seventh floor.

There was a chilly breeze that made Morgan shiver. Someone probably left a window open, she thought as she pulled her robes closers together to keep out the wind. Something hit her leg as another gust of wind blew through the corridor. It turns out it was a copy of the Daily Prophet and it was caught on her leg. Morgan stopped to snatch it up and glanced at the front page. It was today's paper.

She was about to fold it up when the picture on the front page caught her eye. Morgan had finally gotten used to pictures in this Wizarding world moving and leaving their frames but that wasn't what made Morgan pause. The picture of the destroyed platform was in black and white with ministry wizards running back and forth across the frame. But if Morgan looked closer, she could've sworn she saw some familiar runes etched in the broken stones. The picture was too small so Morgan couldn't get a clear view but those runes were disturbingly familiar. Her gut was screaming that it was sorcery but Morgan couldn't confirm it unless she had a closer look.

_I'll have to go tonight, after everyone's gone to bed…_ Morgan remembered Hermione noticing her absence last night and made a mental note to set an illusion of herself before she left.

* * *

Morgan arrived at the ruins of Platform 9¾ around four in the morning. The journey had been a long one and Hermione had stayed up longer than Morgan anticipated. Morgan landed on a lamp post, disguised as a paragon falcon, but quickly shifted her form to that of a Great Horned owl. Using the bird's excellent night vision, she assessed the damage the platform had sustained. From a mortal's stand point, it seemed that the platform had been bombed several times but if Morgan's instinct was right, then this was just the after-effects of something more.

She located the wall that had been in the newspaper and swooped down, shifting in midair and landing silently in her human form.

It was dark tonight. Clouds obscured the half moon, shedding little light on the decimated platform. Morgan approached the wall in question carefully. She summoned her scry stone and concentrated on the wall, using her stone like a magnifying glass. The runes she had glimpsed from the newspaper appeared as red as fire within her scry stone as she walked the length of the wall. They were ancient runes that Morgan remembered studying at the School. But she had never really figured out how they worked. She only knew how to read and identify them.

The runes were the remnants of a spell that had been carved into the wall by a sharp object. These characters were the leftovers of a time spell. Morgan suspected the time spell had been cast on the entire station, causing the building to rapidly age and deteriorate. As Morgan examined the rest of the station, she noticed that there were scorch marks in the main part of the station. It looked like there had also been a huge fire on the muggle's side of the barrier.

Dawn arrived and the muggle detectives returned to the station to continue their investigation. Morgan took flight and found a dark corner in the remnants of the roof to watch. She managed to get some rest as the day dragged on. And whenever she was awake, she would listen in on what the muggles had discovered. But, as she expected, they could not determine the source of the destruction and were baffled by the results their scientists were receiving. How could the stones date over seven hundred years old? King's Cross Station had only been built a hundred and fifty years ago!

The muggles didn't leave the site until well after dark. Morgan ate the little food she had brought with her before continuing her work. By the time Morgan finished searching the entire station, it was nearly three in the morning. Morgan managed to identify two more sets of runes – one set had been carved on the other side of the barrier that hid Platform 9¾ from the muggles and the second set had been carved at the main entrance of King's Cross.

Rubbing her eyes, Morgan sat down to think. Rune spells were an ancient form of magic that the Sorcery no longer practiced. The knowledge of how to use them had been lost after the Sorcery went into hiding. If Morgan recalled, properly, it was several thousand years ago that the Sorcery created an artificial world to hide their race in. Much was lost in the chaos – knowledge of how to use runes was one of them. The council, which was made up of the clan leaders, had forbidden anyone from leaving their world; that law had only recently been abolished – about two hundred years ago if Morgan recalled properly.

Could this be the work of one of her people, wondered Morgan. But that would mean that he or she had knowledge of how to cast rune spells, which was impossible.

_Maybe wizards know how to cast runes spells… Hogwarts does have an Ancient Rune's class. I suppose it is quite possible they somehow figured out how to do it._

Morgan could only hope so because the thought that another Sorcery was out here, on the prowl and deliberately causing destruction, was actually very frightening. There was only one rogue sorcerer that could be behind this and every Sorcery in their right mind knew who _he_ was.

Redia.

He was the sole reason the Sorcery have been hiding for two thousand years. As the Sorcery's ancient ancestor who had broken free of his eternal prison, he was out for revenge. He was the reason their numbers had dropped so quickly. Redia had gone from world to world, massacring hundreds of Sorcery. Since he was their ancestor, his powers were ancient and more potent while the Sorcery's powers were diluted due to interbreeding with mortals. So if anyone could cast rune spells, it would be him.

But why would he be here? Why would he bother with destroying this train station? That was what was bothering Morgan the most. Surely it couldn't be him.

Morgan shook her head. Redia was probably somewhere on the other side of the universe. He had no business here. It was probably Voldemort behind all this destruction. If anyone in this world who would know of deadly spells, it would be him.

_I better tell Dumbledore…_

The sky was starting to lighten as dawn approached. Morgan shifted into a falcon and took off, heading back to Hogwarts. Unbeknownst to her, a crow had been watching her the whole day from the shadows. The bird shifted into the form of a man with blond hair and gold eyes. He was smiling cruelly as he watched the falcon disappear into the distance.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Hey, is it just me or does Morgan look like she's been up all night?" asked Harry as he watched Morgan sluggishly work with Neville on their potion.

"Well, she does seem a little tired," said Hermione absently as she concentrated on mixing their potion.

Just then orange smoke issued out of Neville's cauldron and engulfed the pair. Harry could hear them coughing behind the smoke, which was starting to smell like bad eggs.

Snape was on them in seconds. He vanished their potion and gave both of them extra homework on how to properly make the Draught of Insomnia. As soon as Snape was gone, Morgan began apologizing to Neville for getting both of them in trouble. Apparantly she had mistaken the lionfish spine with the gillyweed, which was a mistake anyone in their right mind couldn't possibly have made.

"Okay, maybe she did stay up all night. I mean, even Neville wouldn't have made that mistake. But I can't understand how she could have gotten so little sleep. She was in bed all night, I checked!" said Hermione as she watched Morgan packed her bag grimly.

"Maybe she snuck out of bed when you were asleep," said Ron.

Hermione huffed. "Well serves her right if she did. I already warned her about wandering the school at night."

"She's been wandering around after hours?" asked Harry. "What's she doing?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe snogging some bloke from another House?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She's only been here a week. Do you honestly think she has a boyfriend? She barely speaks to any of us and we're in her House!"

"All right, fine. What do you reckon she's been doing, Miss Know-It-All?" retorted Ron.

"I don't know but if this continues I'm going to have to tell McGonagall."

They packed their bags and left Snape's dungeon, heading up the stairs. Hermione left them on the seventh floor as she headed for her Arithmancy classroom while the rest of the Gryffindors continued on to the North Tower for Divinations. Harry and Ron noticed Morgan lagging behind as they climbed the stairs to Trelawney's classroom.

Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and the two of them slowed down until Morgan was right behind them. They reached the ladder and Harry let Morgan go first. As she stepped past him, Harry finally got a good look at her face and was surprised to see the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair was a disheveled mess and she seemed paler than a ghost.

"I reckon she's sick," said Harry as he and Ron sat down at their usual table. Morgan was sitting with Neville at the table in front of them. "She looks like she's half dead on her feet."

"Blimey, you'd think she'd go to the Hospital Wing if she was sick."

Professor Trelawney went around the room, passing out copies of _The_ _Dream Oracle _and was about to explain today's lesson when Umbridge climbed up the trapdoor. She gave a girlish '_Hem, hem_,' that startled Trelawney. She had to do a double-take at the sight of Umbridge in her usual pink cardigan and black bow.

" Professor Trelawney, I trust you received my note of the date and time of your inspection?"

Trelawney nodded stiffly and turned to address the class. "Today we will be interpreting your latest dreams. Divide into pairs and use _The Dream Oracle_ to help you." She proceeded to join Lavender and Parvati at their table due to the fact that Umbridge had settled herself near Trelawney's winged armchair.

"Right so what was your latest dream, Harry?" asked Ron.

Harry, who was watching Umbridge as she rose to walk around the room, didn't hear him. Ron had to prod Harry in the arm several times to get his attention.

"What, Ron?"

"What was your latest dream?" Ron asked again, opening _The Dream Oracle_.

"Er, I don't remember. Just say I bought a pair of socks for you."

"Uh huh… okay so it says we gotta consider your age, the subject, and how many nights ago you dreamed this," said Ron. He began making a chart as Harry watched Umbridge speaking with Neville while Morgan hid behind her copy of _The Dream Oracle_. Harry half-suspected she was asleep since her head was down but when Umbridge turned to her to ask a question, she looked up and replied automatically. Whatever her reply was, it had wiped the smile that Umbridge had been wearing ever since she entered the classroom off her ugly, toad face. Umbridge made a small note on her clipboard and moved towards Trelawney.

"Now, how long have you been teaching this subject here at Hogwarts?" asked Umbridge.

"Nearly sixteen years," said Trelawney with some pride in her voice.

"And you are the only one in your family, except your great-great-grandmother, Cassandra, who possesses the second sight, correct?"

"Yes. The gift can skip many generations before reappearing again in another Seer," said Trelawney.

"I see. Well, in that case could you please predict something for me?" asked Umbridge, her toad-like smile returned.

"Excuse me?" exclaimed Professor Trelawney. "The inner eye does not see when commanded to!"

"Oh, pity. Not even a tiny prediction?"

Trelawney hesitated, seeming unsure.

"Very well than," said Umbridge making a note on her clipboard.

"What! I do see something!" exclaimed Trelawney in her almost-usual dreamy voice. "Yes! I see it! A great beast is in your future! You are in grave danger!"

"Uh huh." It was obvious Umbridge didn't believe Trelawney as she headed for the trapdoor. "You will receive the results of your evaluation soon, but I suspect you already know what it will say."

After Umbridge was gone, Trelawney rounded on Harry and Ron, who happened to be the closest pair at the moment, and snapped, "Let's see your dream diary." For the rest of the class, she interpreted every one of Harry's dreams as meaning he was about to die or he was in mortal peril, which given the fact that Voldemort was back, wasn't a surprise, though how buying sweets could possibly mean he was about to die was beyond Harry.

* * *

Morgan wished vainly that Potter had a mute button as she quickly stuffed her quill and parchment into her bag before hurrying out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Today's lesson was just as boring as the last one, with them reading out of a stupid textbook, but Potter just had to open his mouth and land himself in detention again.

Morgan groaned out loud as she trudged down the grand staircase, heading for the Great Hall for dinner. She hadn't slept in the past 24 hours – she'd barely made it back to Hogwarts in time for History of Magic – and now she was going to have to spend the next week's nights keeping watch over Harry as he served detention with that evil woman. Of course she couldn't blame him since he didn't know she was his body guard, but it made Morgan feel a little better knowing that he wasn't exactly having a party with Umbridge while Morgan sat outside waiting for him to finish his detention. And then there was the fact that she really needed to talk to Dumbledore about the King's Cross incident, but it looks like at this rate, she was in for another all-nighter.

By the time Morgan had finished loading her plate, Hermione, Ron, and Harry had joined her at the Gryffindor table. Hermione sat next to her, still scolding Harry for losing his temper in front of Umbridge.

"You really need to stop losing your temper every time Umbridge mentions You Know Who. You'll only get into more trouble. If you keep this out, Umbridge might expel you!"

"Umbridge can't expel Harry," said Ron. "She doesn't have the power to do that."

"Oh, you two must be blind if you can't see what she's up to. She's trying to gain control of Hogwarts; Fudge appointing her the Hogwarts High Inquisitor is only the first step. Soon, she'll be running Hogwarts as Headmistress."

"She can't be Headmistress. There's no way she can replace Dumbledore," said Harry.

"Well, Dumbledore won't exactly be in a position to argue if he gets chucked into Azkaban. Don't you remember? Mr. Weasley told us over the summer that Dumbledore keeps trying to spread the news about You Know Who, but he's only getting into more trouble with Fudge. I bet the Minister is looking for any reason he can find to remove Dumbledore from power and throw him in Azkaban."

"How do you know all this Hermione?" asked Ron, chewing on his mash potatoes.

"I listen, Ron, and I pay attention. Her speech at the Welcoming Feast told everyone exactly what she's doing here. Anyone who listened would have known."

"So that would be only you then, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

Morgan checked the time and was dismayed to see that she had only a half hour before Harry was to serve her detention with Umbridge. She quickly took one last bite of her dinner before shooting out of her seat and grabbing her bag.

"Morgan, where are you going?"

"Homework!" she called as she rushed out of the Great Hall. She had just cleared the double doors when she almost ran right into Professor McGonagall.

She quickly side-stepped her, muttering an apology.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Miss Risika?"

"Just back to Gryffindor Tower to do some homework, Professor. Sorry about that," said Morgan hurrying to the stairs.

"All right, just remember you have detention tonight."

"Wait, what?!" Morgan skidded to a halt. "Detention?!"

"Don't tell me you forgot, Miss Risika? It's tonight at seven."

"But – but Professor!"

"No excuses."

Morgan ran back to McGonagall and spoke with a low voice. "Potter has detention tonight with Umbridge," she hissed. "How do you expect me to keep an eye on him if I'm on a different floor?"

"Potter has detention? Again?" exclaimed McGonagall.

"He mouthed off again in class and landed himself in detention every night this week."

McGonagall sighed. "That boy…"

"So you see, I can't do detention tonight or any other night for the rest of this week," said Morgan.

McGonagall shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Miss Risika. I can't let you off simply because you have other obligations. You will serve detention alongside Potter tonight." Morgan could only gape as McGonagall scribbled a note addressed to Umbridge on a small piece of parchment and instructed Morgan to give it to Umbridge when she goes to serve her detention.

Morgan was cursing both women as she stalked up to Gryffindor Tower. She was going to get no sleep for the rest of this week, had to finish a giant pile of homework, and she had to spend tonight getting her hand carved open by that evil bitch. What the bloody hell!

Morgan had barely enough time to take a hot shower before she had to leave for detention with Umbridge.

She ended up arriving first. She entered the overly-decorated pink office and approached Umbridge, who was seated behind her desk with a surprised look on her face. She handed McGonagall's note over without saying anything and watched as a toad-like smile appeared on Umbridge's face.

"Tut tut, Miss Risika, is it? It says here you are serving detention because you attacked Mr. Malfoy with a Stinging Hex last Saturday," she said in a cheery tone.

Morgan remained silent, refusing to answer.

"Now now, just like in class, if I ask you a question you should reply with a 'Yes, Professor Umbridge; or a 'No, Professor Umbridge'."

"Technically you didn't ask a question, Professor, so I'm not obligated to respond," said Morgan coldly.

Umbridge's smile grew wider. "I can see you have a temper like Mr. Potter. You seem to have a little more control of yours but all the same." Umbridge waved her unusually short wand and a small table and chair appeared beside the one that had been set out for Harry. She handed Morgan a quill and parchment and instructed her to write '_I must not tell lies'._

"Sorry Professor but I don't see a reason why I should be writing 'I must not tell lies.'" _More like 'I must not Hex Malfoy'_…

"Oh, well you see I also happened to hear of this incident from Mr. Malfoy himself. He specifically told me you tried to convince Professor Snape that he had been lying about that horrible hex you cast on him. Now we can't have that now can we, Miss Risika?"

Morgan scowled as she turned to sit down in her seat.

"I didn't hear your response, Miss Risika."

"No, Professor Umbridge," said Morgan with her back to the horrible woman.

Morgan began to write but as soon as she finished her first line, she felt invisible daggers carve those words into the back of her hand. She steeled herself to not even flinch as she continued writing 'I must not tell lies' in her own blood.

She was on her tenth line when Harry came in. He stopped, shocked to see her there.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. As you can see, we have another student here serving detention. You know what to do. There will be no need to talk." Harry cast a curious look at Morgan before sitting down and picking up his quill.

The hours slowly ticked by and Morgan's hand was throbbing. She glanced at Harry's hand and noted that his hand wasn't healing like Morgan's was. Blood was dripping down the back of his hand as he forcefully continued to write.

_This is torture, not detention._

Morgan toyed with the idea of pulling out the dagger Matthew had sent her and carving a few choice words into the back of Umbridge's hand; that woman needed a taste of her own medicine and Morgan would gladly give it to her. Maybe Morgan should skip the hand-carving and just go straight for the woman's jugular…

Suddenly, Morgan's right hand twitched wildly, causing the quill to jerk downwards. Morgan hissed as a deep slice appeared on the back of her hand. She bit her lip to hold back her gasp of pain. The wound seemed to trigger another spasm from her right hand. It began shaking uncontrollably. Morgan quickly cast an illusion around her as she tried to hold down her right hand with her left one. She pinned it down, using her body to hold it to the table but the hand was thrashing around wildly. Morgan could feel the demon in her struggling for control.

_Not now! Not now!_

Morgan panicked as she tried to force her demon back into her subconscious. Why did the demon have to decide to awaken right now, when she was in front of other people?

Her hand was frantically trying to wiggle out from under Morgan. A black aura encompassed her hand, shaping it into claws, which were shredding Morgan's uniform as it struggled to get free. She could feel the claws ripping through cloth and flesh as her hand thrashed about. Pain seared across her back but Morgan bit back the pain. She could only pray that the demon would give up soon as she tried to stay silent. Illusions only obscured what others saw, not what they heard.

It seemed like an eternity later when the demon gave a final jerk, ripping the sleeve completely off Morgan's left arm, and receded into her unconscious. Morgan was sweating as she rested her head on the table, panting as softly as she could.

_Damn it, why not?_

Morgan slowly sat up and realized her hand had not only shredded her uniform, but also the parchment she was supposed to be writing on. She was also dismayed to see that she had snapped the quill in half.

_Now how am I going to explain this to Umbridge?_

Morgan was afraid if she continued with this detention the demon might leap out again. Morgan tried to figure out how to get out of there without Umbridge realizing what had been happening for the past five minutes. She pulled out her wand and tried to repair the parchment.

"_Reparo. Reparo_," she whispered, but the spell didn't work.

Morgan cursed as she stared at the still ruined parchment and wondered how she was going to fix it with Sorcery. Her first week at Hogwarts taught Morgan that there were a lot of spells the wizards had developed that no amount of Sorcery magic could match. Repairing shredded parchment was one of them.

She decided to pull out a fresh sheet of parchment and start over. She stuffed the ruined parchment into her bag and pulled out her own quill and dagger. She took a deep breath and made a small gash in her left palm. When her demon didn't react again, she exhaled in relief. Blood was dripping down her hand and onto the table. Morgan quickly dipped her quill in her own blood and started rewriting '_I must not tell lies_' over and over again until she filled the page. By then, her hand was numb and Morgan quickly used her shredded sleeve as a makeshift bandage. The only thing left to do was carve those words into the back of her hand… for real this time.

Morgan braced herself as she levitated the dagger with her mind. She had to push past the initial pain to stop herself from losing concentration and dropping the dagger into her hand. Five excruciating minutes later, her right hand was dripping with blood and had the words 'I must not tell lies' etched deeply in her flesh.

She silently prayed that this would work as she dropped the illusion around her table and stood up. She handed the parchment to Umbridge and apologized for snapping the quill in half. Umbridge smiled as she scanned the parchment and asked Morgan to show her her hand.

Umbridge seemed delighted at how deep the wounds were and Morgan grimaced at the fact that she voluntarily etched those words into her hands just to satisfy this woman.

"I'm glad you finally got the message, Miss Risika. You're free to go. Potter, let me see your hand."

Morgan left the room as quickly as she could, wrapping her right hand with what remained of her uniform. She was halfway up the stairs when she realized she was supposed to wait for Harry.

_Damn bodyguard duties._ Morgan was too shaken to think straight. All she wanted to do was rush up to her room, tend to her bleeding hands, and contact Isis as soon as possible. That demon attack really scared Morgan. What if next time, she loses control completely and attacks everyone in the Great Hall?

A few minutes later, Harry stepped out of Umbridge's office. He looked up and called out with surprise in his voice, "Morgan?" He rushed to catch up to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine… just fine." Morgan started climbing as fast as she could. She didn't care if she left him behind. She just needed to get back to her room. Right now!

"Hey, don't let the old toad get to you," said Harry, who was surprisingly managing to keep up with Morgan's fast pace. He cast her a worried look. "Are you sure you're okay. You look really pale."

"I said I'm fine, all right!" snapped Morgan. She turned sharply and pushed aside a tapestry that hid a secret passage way that would get her to Gryffindor Tower faster. She practically shouted the password at the Fat Lady as she rushed inside the Gryffindor common room. The common room was deserted since it was well past midnight.

Morgan stormed across the room, heading straight for the spiral staircase when Harry grabbed her by the wrist. "Morgan, wait – "

Morgan hissed at the pain and jerked her arm away from him. It was then that she realized she'd let the illusion over her uniform drop while she had rushed back to the common room. In the light of the fireplace, Harry could see that her uniform was completely torn and her entire left sleeve was gone. He could also see her bandaged hands, which was still bleeding profusely.

Harry's eyes widen in shock. "Morgan, what happened to you?"

"It's nothing. I'm going to bed."

"Wait! Morgan!"

Morgan ran as fast as she could to the girl's dormitory. She rushed into her room and locked herself in the bathroom where she crumpled to the ground, shaking.

It was too much, just too much. Her demon, her body guard duties and her school work… all the stress was driving her crazy. She felt like she was falling apart.

A soft, hesitant knock sounded from the bathroom door.

"Morgan? Are you okay in there?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. I'm fine." _No. I'm losing my mind in here!_

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Go to sleep, Hermione. I'm just going to shower and then I'll go to bed too."

"Okay…"

Morgan waited for the sound of Hermione's bed to creak, telling her she did in fact go back to bed instead of listening behind the door. She got up and undressed then took a long, hot shower. The hot water was soothing and Morgan could feel some of her earlier panic being washed away. She undid her make-shift bandage and cleaned the wounds. She muttered a quick spell and watched as green light emitted from the wounds as they slowly closed up. The spell worked so well there wasn't even a scar.

When she finished showering, she decided that she was too tired to attempt to scry Isis. I'll contact her tomorrow, thought Morgan as she fell into bed. She was asleep before her head even hit her pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"I'm telling you she looked like she'd been attacked by a wild beast!" exclaimed Harry in Charms the next day. The class was busy practicing silencing charms but since only Hermione could to do the spell properly, the room was still filled with obnoxiously loud ravens and bullfrogs. You could barely hear what the person next to you was saying; hence Harry was free to talk with Ron and Hermione as loudly as he wanted.

"Bloody hell, mate. I know Umbridge is evil but why would she attack Morgan?" asked Ron.

"She didn't attack her. Morgan was fine when we were serving detention together but when we got back to the common room, her robes were torn to pieces. Her entire left sleeve was gone!"

"Blimey, was she attacked in the hallway or something?"

"I don't know. She left a few minutes before I did and she was on the stairs when I came out. I don't know if she was already all banged up when I joined her 'cause it was too dark to see."

"Hmm, don't you think it's a bit odd that she was serving detention with you to begin with?" asked Hermione, thoughtfully. "I thought McGonagall gave her detention on Saturday."

"Yeah so?"

"Well, why would McGonagall let Umbridge oversee Morgan's detention? I thought McGonagall hated that woman."

"Maybe she was busy last night," suggested Ron as he pointed his want at his raven. "_Silencio_."

The raven gave a defiant caw, making Ron frown. "Why doesn't this stupid spell work?"

"That's because your wand work is sloppy. You have to sort of prod it, like this. _Silencio_." The raven opened its beak but no sound came out. "See?"

Ron grumbled to himself as he took back his raven.

"Do you have detention tonight, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, for the rest of this week." Harry glanced across the room to where Morgan was sitting, poking her raven and muttering the silencing charm. Evidently she wasn't having much luck with it either. "Do you know if Morgan has detention again tonight?"

Hermione shrugged. "You could ask her."

While the rest of the Gryffindors headed for Transfiguration, Harry lagged behind until Morgan was walking along side him. Ron and Hermione were a little ahead but they were close enough to hear them.

"Hey, Morgan. How are you?"

"Hello, Potter. I'm fine," she said in a dead voice.

"Er, you know, you can just call me Harry. We're friends aren't we?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"So er, I was wondering if you have detention again, tonight," asked Harry. "Just, you know, curious."

"No. I only have one night of detention."

"Oh."

Harry tried to think of a way to ask her what happened to her last night without driving her away. But before he could phrase his question, Morgan asked him, "How's your hand? Is it bleeding again?"

"Oh, it's okay. It stopped bleeding this morning but I think after tonight, the cut will open up again."

Morgan nodded. "I'll have my first aid kit ready for you when you get back."

"Er, thanks. Listen, what happened to you last night?"

"It was nothing."

Harry stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "That wasn't nothing. You looked like you were attacked."

"It doesn't concern you, Potter. Now please move." She tried to step around him but Harry cut her off.

"Look, I know I'm being nosey but as a fellow Gryffindor and as a friend I want to know how the bloody hell you got so banged up."

She glared at him so coldly, Harry had to force himself not to flinch. "It's none of your business, okay."

"Potter. Risika. Get in here or I will take off points," barked McGonagall from the door of the Transfiguration room.

"Yes, Professor," they mumbled.

Harry followed Morgan in and they sat in the only two available seats, which were behind Ron and Hermione. It was then that he realized Umbridge was sitting in the corner with her clipboard.

"This ought to be good," whispered Ron, grinning as McGonagall marched in, ignoring Umbridge.

"Today we will continue with the Vanishing spell and –"

"_Hem hem._"

" – we will move on to practicing with mice," continued McGonagall, ignoring Umbridge. "Potter, Risika. Since you two were dawdling in the hallway, please pass out these two boxes of mice – one for each student."

Morgan and Harry got up and took the boxes from McGonagall as she continued, "Mice are mammals, which mean they are much more complicated than the snails you have been practicing on. So –"

"_Hem hem._ I was wondering if you got my note stating the time and place of your inspection?"

"Obviously I did. If I had not then I would have asked why you are in my classroom," replied McGonagall coldly. "As I was saying –"

"_Hem hem._"

"If you want to see how I normally teach my class I suggest you stop interrupting me. You see, I do not allow others to talk while I am talking," snapped McGonagall.

Umbridge stared at her dumbly before quickly scribbling notes on her clipboard. The class exchanged gleeful looks at how McGonagall was handling Umbridge. Luckily Umbirdge remained in her corner for the rest of class while the Gryffindors practiced vanishing their mice.

Harry, who had barely vanished his snail last week, was unsuccessful with his mouse. He thought his mouse looked a little more transparent than before, otherwise his spell had no effect on it. He glanced up at Ron and Hermione to see how they were doing. Hermione had vanished her mouse on her third try while Ron was waving his wand around uselessly.

When Harry turned to see how Morgan was doing, he was surprised to see her watching Hermione intently as Hermione showed Ron how to vanish his mouse properly. She caught Harry looking and promptly returned her attention to her mouse. She studied it for a long time, seeming to be in deep thought. Finally, she pulled out her wand and muttered, "_Evanesco._"

Amazingly, her mouse disappeared.

"Well done, Miss Risika. You managed to vanish your mouse on your first try. Five points for Gryffindor," said McGonagall. She moved to Harry's table. "Go on, Mr. Potter."

"Er, _Evanesco_." Harry's heart gave a lurch as the mouse disappeared but then he realized that he could still see the outlines of it as it twitched its head side to side.

"Close Mr. Potter. Keep practicing."

By the end of class, Harry hadn't been able to improve on his vanishing spell.

"Hey, you did better than me," said Ron, holding up his wiggling mouse tail. "At least yours is somewhat not visible."

They packed up their bags and were about to leave when Harry noticed Morgan staying behind, waiting for McGonagall, who was answering some of Umbridge's questions. Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder and the three of them slowed down to eavesdrop.

"Now how long have you been teaching?" asked Umbridge.

"Thirty-nine years."

"Impressive. Well, that will be all. You will receive the results of your examination in a few weeks time."

"I can hardly wait," said McGonagall coolly. "Move along, you three. Miss Risika, a word, please."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had no choice but to leave but before the door closed, Harry caught the beginning of McGonagall's sentence, "About last night's detention…"

"Do you reckon McGonagall found out about Umbridge and her… uh, methods?" asked Ron as the trio walked out of the castle and onto the grounds, heading for Care of Magical Creatures.

Harry shrugged. If McGonagall did find out about how Umbridge ran her detentions, then she would likely call him later. But as much as he'd like to see Umbridge get into trouble for her torturous ways, Harry felt like he would be admitting defeat to Umbridge in their private battle of wills.

"Oh no, that horrible woman is here too," said Hermione as they caught up with the rest of the Gryffindors, who were standing around Professor Grubby-Plank. Umbridge was scribbling on her clipboard as she conversed with the professor. After she finished speaking with Grubby-Plank, she moved among the students, asking questions about the class. Then she questioned Malfoy about his hippogriff injury. Luckily, Harry wasn't within earshot or else he was sure he'd lose his temper over the lies Malfoy was likely spewing.

Today they were studying forest imps. Harry and Ron were holding down the wiggling imp while Hermione sketched. The imp was restless and kept trying to get free of their grip. Its skin was dark brown and had a round belly and beady black eyes. It was about the size of Harry's forearm and the only thing remotely dangerous about it was its sharp teeth. Luckily, Professor Grubby-Plank had already gagged the imps before distributing them among the students.

By the time Umbridge excused herself from the class, Harry realized Morgan was missing. Did she skip this class to talk with McGonagall? Did McGonagall _let_ her skip class? That would be so unlike their stern Head of House.

They ended class five minutes early and reached the Great Hall first. Harry glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Morgan at the Gryffindor table but she wasn't there.

"Relax, Harry. I'm sure she's probably still talking to McGonagall," said Hermione, loading her plate.

"Do you think she was sent to the hospital wing?" asked Harry, the memory of Morgan and her torn uniform flashed across his mind as he looked anxiously at Ron. Something horribly wrong had happened last night, he just knew it.

Ron shrugged. "You could go and check, mate."

"Maybe –"

"POTTER!" shouted Angelina, storming towards him.

Ron gulped. "Uh oh, I think she found out about your detention –"

"What is wrong with you?" yelled Angelina. "A whole week's worth of detention? Do you even care about winning the Quidditch cup this year?"

"Angelina, I –"

"Do you realize how behind we are in training as it is? The Slytherins keep booking the Quidditch field! We hardly have any time to practice and you go and land yourself in detention for a whole week again?!"

"Er, Angelina, maybe now's not the time," said Fred, coming up behind her and placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, McGonagall looks like she's about to kill both of you," said George on her other shoulder. He pointed in the direction of the staff table and they all flinched at the sight of McGonagall marching in their direction, her mouth gone ominously thin. They were in for it now.

"Miss Johnson! How dare you cause such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor."

"But Professor, Potter's gone and landed himself in detention, AGAIN!"

"I'm well aware of that Miss Johnson, but if you continue to shout in the Great Hall like that I will take away your Captaincy. Now return to your seat."

Angelina cast Harry a disgusted glare as she moved to sit with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet at the end of the table.

"I reckon you should avoid Angelina for a while, Harry," said Fred. "She's getting a tad bit touchy."

"I think she can give Wood a run for his money," commented his twin. "And we thought he was obsessed…" He shook his head. The twins sat down next to their friend Lee Jordon, leaving Harry feeling guilty for letting down his teammates.

"Professor, do you know where Morgan is? She missed Care of Magical Creatures," asked Hermione and it was then that Harry realized McGonagall was still standing over them.

"She is currently in Professor Dumbledore's office and has been excused from class for the rest of the day," said McGonagall, eyeing Harry through narrow slits. "Potter, if I hear you are in detention again I will take ten points from Gryffindor for every detention you receive." And with that, she returned to her seat at the staff table.

"Well, it's not like I enjoy having my hand sliced open ever night," muttered Harry. "Does she think I want to be in detention for the rest of the year?"

"Of course she doesn't. You need to learn to control your temper. Umbridge is not a teacher to be taken lightly. Remember, she reports to the Minister of Magic, not Dumbledore," reminded Hermione. "Besides, I'm more curious about why Morgan's in Dumbledore's office."

"Yeah, I'd like a day off school," said Ron with a sigh. "Do you realize how much homework the teachers are loading us with? We've got O.W.L.s coming up, Quidditch practice every night the Quidditch pitch isn't booked, and I have prefect duties! I don't think I'll ever catch up this year."

"Skipping classes will only add to your work load, Ron," chimed Hermione.

Ron grumbled something about Hermione being a kill-joy as he stabbed his steak viciously with his knife. Harry turned to his dinner but Hermione's question kept ringing in his ear.

What was Morgan doing in Dumbledore's office?

* * *

Harry did not see Morgan for the rest of the week. He thought she would be in the common room with her first aid kit after his second detention, but she wasn't there. Hermione said she never came back to their dorm and she even asked McGonagall about Morgan. All she got from her was to focus on her own studies and not worry about Morgan.

By the end of the week, Harry's hand was bleeding profusely. He wished he had some of that orange paste Morgan had used on his hand so it would heal. Hermione had no luck reproducing it, but she did give him a bowl of murtlap essence that helped soothed his throbbing wound. It didn't heal his hand, but it had distracted him from the pain in order for him to listen to what she had to say.

"I think it's time we took Defense Against the Dark Arts into our own hands," said Hermione. "At this rate we won't be able to pass our O.W.L.s and we certainly won't be able to defend ourselves if we're attacked. We need someone to teach us how to properly use spells to fight and defend."

"What are you getting at Hermione?" asked Harry.

Hermione cast a hesitant glance at Ron who nodded in encouragement before taking a deep breath. She explained her idea of having Harry teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts since he was the only one who actually fought Voldemort. Harry could only gape at her crazy idea so Hermione took advantage of his shock and plowed on. She and Ron recounted all the things he did in the past five year – stop Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's Stone, killing Riddle, fighting off a hundred dementors, etc.

Harry had exploded at how they were talking as if he was some clever wizard while everyone else were dunces. He tried to convince them that you only had your wits when you were out there, facing Voldemort, which was exactly Hermione's point.

She begged him to think about it and dropped the subject, mostly because she was afraid Harry would yell again. He seemed to always be angry these days, but he did give this idea some thought. As the days passed, Harry found himself lying awake at night, thinking of all the spells that had helped save his life.

Finally, one morning, Hermione brought up the subject of the secret Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, wanting to know Harry's answer.

Harry chewed his toast and said slowly, "I suppose I could teach you two, right?"

"Er, well…" Hermione hesitated. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in teaching others. I figured we should let whoever wants to learn to have a chance, you know?"

Harry frowned. "I don't think anyone wants to learn from me. I'm an attention-seeking loon, remember?"

"You'd be surprised who wants to hear you out," replied Hermione.

"I think you'll be great," said Ron encouragingly.

"Ron and I will spread the word. There are a few people I'm sure who would be interested."

Harry nodded.

It was Friday night and lucky for them, tomorrow was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Hermione was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace knitting socks when Harry and Ron came in. Ron had just finished Quidditch practice and Harry just finished his last detention with Umbridge.

Hermione smiled as they took their usual seats. It was late and the common room was deserted. She handed Harry a bowl of murtlap essence for his hand and soon they were all situated in comfortable, squishy armchairs.

"Well, I've finished spreading the word. I told everyone to meet us in Hogsmeade tomorrow," said Hermione.

"Excellent," said Ron.

"How many people did you tell?" asked Harry.

"Oh, a few…" Somehow, Harry had a feeling Hermione's idea of a 'few' was drastically different from Harry's.

"Hermione, you do realize that if Umbridge catches wind of this, we could get into a lot of trouble – actually, most likely expelled," said Harry.

"Well, I think there's no point being here at Hogwarts if we aren't learning how to use magic properly, and that includes defending ourselves," replied Hermione.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger," asked Ron, wide eye. "You sound a little too excited to be breaking school rules."

Hermione chuckled. "I think I've hit the rebellious age."

Ron and Harry laughed.

Just then the portrait swung open and Morgan climbed in. The three of them stared at her in surprise. She looked exhausted and deathly pale. She muttered a low greeting and headed for the staircase. She stumbled and leaned heavily on a nearby armchair for support.

The three of them leaped to their feet and rushed over to her. She looked like she was about to keel over any second.

"What happened to you?"

"Where did you go?"

"Are you okay?"

Up close, Harry noticed the deep bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept at all. Her eyes were dull and glazed as they barely registered them. Her weariness was practically tangible.

Morgan waved them off as she tried to right herself. But just then her vision decided to do a three-sixty on her and she collapsed into the chair. Her body weighed a ton and she no longer had the energy to move her limbs. All she wanted to do was lie here and sleep. If only those three mortals would shut up and leave her alone…

"Should we call Professor McGonagall?" asked Ron with concern.

"Forget Professor McGonagall, we need to get her to the Hospital Wing!" said Hermione anxiously. "Harry help me lift her."

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Morgan stumbled away from them. _Crazy mortals…_ "I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital wing, okay? I'm fine… just tired."

"You don't look fine," said Ron.

"Just tired," she mumbled and sat down on a nearby couch and leaned her head back. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, feeling the stress of the week seep out of her. _So tired…_

"Where have you been all week?" asked Hermione. "You missed a lot of school work."

"It's okay. Dumbledore sent me the work I missed," lied Morgan. Like hell she was caught up. Her pile of workload just increased ten folds. Before they could ask again, she added, "I went back home. My guardian was ill." That was another lie but obviously Morgan couldn't tell them that she had been continuing her training under Isis' grueling instructions. That woman could be evil at times.

Just thinking about the stuff Isis put her through made Morgan groan. To graduate from the School, Sorcery were required to master the basics of all seven elements – fire, water, wind, earth, thunder, light, and darkness. Once a Sorcery learns the basics, he or she would then proceed to completely master one of the seven elements – which one depended on the clan he or she belonged to. Morgan belonged to the darkness clan. Their powers reside over shadows and minds. A popular rumor in the School was that the Master of the darkness clan could talk with spirits and the dead. No one had ever been able to prove that rumor true but neither could anyone prove it false.

Of course, Morgan had thought that was what she was going to learn when Isis summoned her home last week. But it turns out her Mistress had other plans for her. As a graduate and Isis' own personal heir, Morgan found herself in over her head with studying. Isis explained that to better Morgan's chance of surviving as long as Isis did, Morgan needed to completely master all seven elements. This was a requirement for all clan leaders; in case one of them died without an heir, there were six others who could take his or her place temporarily.

Isis had lost no time and set her to work immediately on mastering light. She explained that light magic was nearly the opposite of darkness but it was also their sister. Isis guided Morgan through the intermediate light spells – which took up the majority of the week to learn. Light magic leaned heavily in the illusion and seals but also involved casting spells using life as its source of power. Morgan discovered that the origins of the rumor she'd heard at the School came from the combination of the elements light and darkness, which allows Sorcery to communicate with the dead and see the souls of the living. Once Morgan had some-what gotten the jest of light magic, Isis sent her back to Hogwarts with an extra assignment – learning fire magic.

_If Voldemort doesn't kill me, all this studying definitely will._

Morgan sighed and looked up to see Ron, Hermione, and Harry still staring at her. "What?"

Ron sat back in his chair and nodded. "Yup, she's gone mental. Let's get her to the hospital wing."

Hermione and Harry nodded.

"I have not gone mental!" exclaimed Morgan.

"Then why were you all sighing and groaning and muttering to yourself?"

"Because I had a long week, okay?" snapped Morgan.

"How's your guardian?" asked Hermione. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine now. She's really old so she's not as healthy as she used to be." _Yeah right, Isis is just as fit as she was two hundred years ago. The only thing that's changed is her grouchiness. _

"So how come you live with your guardian?" asked Harry. "What happened to your parents?"

Morgan crossed her arms and frowned at his question. It had been a long time since she thought about her parents. To tell the truth, she barely remembered them. She could only remember what it felt like to hug her father and what her mother smelled like – jasmine and winter air. It was a weird combination, but fresh snow and a cup of jasmine tea were the closest Morgan ever got in replicating that scent. But regardless, it still soothed her.

She had been only three years old when her parents were killed. They were the only family of Sorcery that lived outsides of the artificial world their people hid in. Redia had tracked them down and murdered them in cold blood. Isis said her mother had hidden Morgan away, which was the only reason she had survived. Isis was a close friend of Morgan's mother, so guardianship naturally fell to her. From that day on, Morgan lived at the School, learning Sorcery and staying under Isis' constant protection. And whenever they were alone together – like last week's training session – they would never speak of Morgan's mother.

"It's not good to dwell on the past," Isis once said. "You forget to live in the present and you lose sight of the future."

So Morgan pushed her parents into the farthest corner of her mind, refusing to think and wonder what life would have been like if they were still alive. Luckily, she wasn't constantly reminded since Matthew and Laris both lost their parents at a young age. Morgan supposed that was one of the reasons the three of them got along so well. Though the other two had other living relatives, they lived in different clans so communication was limited. The School was their home and they were each other's new family.

Returning to the present, Morgan answered Harry, "My parents are dead. I was raised by my guardian."

"I'm sorry." She knew that her past was similar to Harry's – in more ways than one – so she knew he was genuinely sorry.

"It's all right. Don't be."

The mood was heavy in the room. Luckily, Hermione changed the topic to something lighter.

"You know you came back just in time for the trip to Hogsmeade," she said. "Since you've probably never been there, how about we show you around tomorrow? We're also going to meet a couple of friends later."

Morgan shrugged. "Sure but I don't want to be a burden. If you're meeting others than I –"

"Nonsense, come along. Besides, we're meeting for reasons that I think you would like to be in on," said Hermione. "You see, we're thinking of putting together a Defense Against the Dark Arts class of our own – one where we actually _learn_ how to do the spells we're studying, not the rubbish Umbridge is making us do, and I was wondering if you would be interested in joining."

"Um… sure. But who's going to teach it?" asked Morgan.

"Harry is," said Ron, indicating with his head in Harry's direction.

Harry scratched his head, slightly embarrassed as Morgan gaped with surprise. But she supposed she should have seen that coming. He'd been getting himself into trouble with that horrible woman for the first two weeks. Naturally he'd be involved with this little rebellion.

Morgan sensed Harry was nervous about the whole thing so she tried to reassure him. "Well, I don't see anything wrong with that. I mean, you can't be worse than Umbridge right?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Right."

"All right, then it's settled. We'll all meet up in the Great Hall and go to Hogsmeade together," said Hermione cheerfully.

Everyone nodded and Morgan followed Hermione back up the staircase to their room where Morgan gratefully climbed into bed and was asleep in seconds.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Leita pumped her wings, trying to stay afloat. Even with the weight-reducing spell, the package was still too heavy for Leita to carry long distances, let alone across worlds. But Hogwarts was in sight so Leita used the last of her strength to make it though the castle window and entered the Great Hall. Her wings were giving out on her. She was quickly losing strength.

She scanned the Great Hall, looking for Morgan's familiar black head but was dismayed to not find her anywhere. Where could she be? She circled the Gryffindor table numerous times, steadily losing altitude as fatigued took over. She eventually gave up and decided to land next to the Potter boy Morgan was supposed to be protecting.

Leita nearly crashed into his bowl of oatmeal as she landed on the table, the package making a soft _thump_ as it hit the wood. Leita flopped down to try and catch her breath.

"Hey, isn't this Morgan's bird?" asked Harry.

Leita hopped back on her feet and chirped, trying to ask where Morgan was. She looked between the three mortal kids that had gathered around her but doubted they got the message.

"Where is Morgan anyways?" asked Ron.

"She's still sleeping when I left," said Hermione. "I wonder if she got up yet."

Leita groaned. There was no way she could find Gryffindor tower while lugging this giant package around. Maybe these three mortals could give the package to her…

Leita started chirping again, hoping somehow they understood her.

"What's the bird want?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," replied Harry. He bent down so that his face was level with Leita. "You're looking for Morgan right?"

Leita nodded.

"Is this package for her?"

Leita nodded again, her hopes rising.

"She's up in Gryffindor Tower."

Her hope deflated. _I don't bloody hell know where that is! Can't you take this to her? Please? Or go get her or show me where the tower is!_

"Er, mate, I think the bird's gone mental," said Ron as Leita jumped up and down with frustration.

"Maybe she doesn't know where Gryffindor Tower is," suggested Hermione perceptively.

"Well that's easy. It's on the seventh floor."

Leita groaned. _The seventh floor was very big. Hell, the castle was very big! How was she supposed to know which window was Gryffindor Tower's?!_

"Hedwig's delivered letters to me loads of time in the common room," said Harry. "Go on, Morgan's probably in the common room by now. You can catch her if you hurry." He nudged Leita with his hand but Leita refused to move.

_Do you idiots know how far I've flown to get this thing here?! Bloody hell, I came from a different world! Besides, once I land, the spell wears off. There's no way I can carry this thing now!_

"Guess this bird really doesn't know where Gryffindor Tower is," said Harry.

"Yeah well, canaries probably aren't as smart as owls," said Ron with a shrug.

_Smart? I'll show you who's smart!_ Leita hopped onto Ron's flaming red head and began pecking him furiously. _Now who's the smart one, huh?!__ I'll peck your brains out you stupid mortal!_

"Argh! Get this crazy bird off me!" He covered his head with his arms but she just proceeded on attacking his arm instead.

Hermione chuckled. "I think you offended her, Ron."

"Don't just sit there, do something!" exclaimed Ron to Harry.

"Er, what?"

"I don't know. Just do something or my arm's going to turn into Swiss cheese!"

Harry's hand wrapped around Leita's little body and pulled her out of the air. His grip was firm but didn't hurt her. Outraged all the same, she was about to peck his hand so he'd release her when Hermione stuck a grape on her beck.

"There. Sorry about this," she said apologetically.

Leita glared angrily at her in response. _When I get free I am so clawing your eyes out mortal…_

"Anyways, if the bird doesn't know where Morgan is, I don't see why we can't just give the package to her," said Hermione, talking to the boys. "She's going to Hogsmeade with us after all."

Ron snorted while rubbing his sore arm. "If she ever gets out of bed…"

"Well, we might as well meet her out in the Entrance Hall. Everyone else is already leaving for Hogsmeade," said Hermione, indicating the crowd of people heading out of the Great Hall. "Come on."

They got up and Ron picked up the package. "Merlin's beard! What's in here, boulders?" He groaned as he lifted the brown paper-wrapped package off the table. Harry helped him with his free hand while the other one still kept a firm grip on Leita.

* * *

Morgan rushed down to the Great Hall while still fastening the lining of her cloak. She had over slept and woke up to find the dorm completely empty. Why didn't Hermione wake her up?

She jumped the last few steps to find a crowd of students waiting in line while Filch checked his list of names. Morgan looked around, trying to spot Harry, Ron, or Hermione. Luckily, Ron's flaming red hair was like a beacon in the darkness and she spotted them by the Great Hall double doors.

Morgan had to shove her way through the crowd before she could reach them. As she neared, she noticed a large package sitting at Ron's feet and that Harry was holding something yellow and fluffy in his hand.

"Sorry I'm late," she said.

"It's all right. You needed some well deserved sleep." Hermione smiled.

"What do you have in your hand, Harry?" Morgan pointed, curious.

"Oh, er… don't get mad but er, you had a delivery this morning and…" He handed over the yellow ball of fluff and Morgan gasped as she realized it was actually a very disgruntled Leita with a big grape stuck on her beck.

"Leita!" The spirit beast looked furious like she wanted nothing better than to murder the three mortals. "What happened?"

"Er, well, she dropped off this package at breakfast," Ron pointed at the package in question, "but you weren't here so we tried to tell her to take it to Gryffindor Tower. Then she started throwing a fit and began pecking me."

"Eh?" Morgan looked down at Leita, bewildered. "Why would you do something like that Leita?"

Leita huffed, puffing up her feathers. _Because they were being idiots and the red one called me stupid._

Morgan glanced up to see Ron massaging his arm tenderly.

"Well, here's your package, Morgan," said Hermione as she tried to lift it. "It's really heavy. What's in it anyways?"

Morgan wondered the same thing. She knelt down and unwrapped the package. It was a stack of hardcover books and an envelope. Morgan checked the titles but there wasn't anything written on the covers. She opened the letter and realized it was from Isis.

_Great, if it's from her than it's bound to be more homework._

She tucked the letter into her pocket, saving it for later, and quickly packed away the books into her new backpack.

"Aren't you going to read your letter?" asked Hermione.

"Later."

Leita hopped up and down on Morgan's shoulder. _Hello? Aren't you forgetting something? GET THIS GRAPE OFF MY BEAK!_

_Okay okay, you don't have to shout._

Morgan pulled the fruit off and grabbed Leita just as she attempted to resume her attack on Ron.

"Cool it, Leita."

"That bird's out to get me!" exclaimed Ron leaping back in fright.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have insulted her," said Hermione with her hands on her hips. "Shall we go, then? Everyone's already gone."

Morgan nodded and they got in line, which had gotten noticeably shorter. When they passed Filch, Morgan could've sworn she saw him sniffing Harry and she wasn't the only one that noticed.

"Was Filch _sniffing_ you?" asked Ron once they were outside.

"He's probably checking for Dungbombs. Someone apparently tipped him off that I had placed an order for a dozen Dungbombs when I went to the Owlery to send my letter to Snuffles," explained Harry.

"I bet it was Malfoy," said Ron, wrapping his cloak more securely around him.

It was a chilly morning so after Morgan was sure Leita had calmed down enough, she let the canary rest on her shoulder, under the folds of her cloak to stay warm. The village of Hogsmeade was small but Hermione explained that it was the only All-Wizarding village in the country and had a lot of amazing sights. There were many interesting shops in the village. Morgan felt like she was back at Diagon Alley; she was looking every which way, trying to see everything at once.

"Over there is Zonko's. It's a joke shop. My brothers, Fred and George, go there a lot," said Ron.

"That's Honeyduke. It's a sweet shop that sells all kinds of candy," said Hermione. "And over there is Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. You can buy quills, parchment, and different color inks in there."

"What's this shop?" asked Morgan, noticing a very busy building that they were passing.

"Oh, that's the Three Broomsticks. It's an inn and it's run by Madame Rosmerta," replied Ron with a strange, dreamy look in his eyes.

"Ron fancies her," whispered Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"So where are we supposed to be meeting everyone?" asked Harry. "In the Three Broomsticks?"

Hermione shook her head. "No it's too crowded over there. We're meeting everyone at the Hog's Head. It's another pub just down the road. Students don't really go there so we won't be overheard."

In Morgan's opinion, she'd rather be in the Three Broomsticks. The Hog's Head was really dark and dingy compared to the Three Broomsticks. It looked like the kind of place criminals would hang out at, not students. The four of them decided to sit down at a table in the corner, closest to the window where some of the morning light seeped through the dirty glass.

"I guess I'll go order us some butterbeer," said Ron, heading towards the bar.

"What's butterbeer?" asked Morgan while using her mind to sense the room for danger. The place made the back of her neck prickle, like they were being watched, but she couldn't place the source.

"It's delicious. Just wait till you try it, though I'd think you'd enjoy it more if we had them at the Three Broomsticks," said Hermione, looking around the dark pub nervously.

Ron returned with four bottles of butterbeer and Morgan handed over two sickles to pay him back for hers. She took a sip and was surprised at the sudden warmth that filled her stomach. It was sweet and calming. Morgan wondered vaguely if there was any alcohol in it as she took another sip.

"So when did you tell them to meet us here?" asked Harry.

Hermione checked her watched. "They should be here soon."

Just then the door opened and Neville, Ginny, and Luna stepped in. They smiled and sat down with them and were about to exchange greetings when the door opened again as more students came in. Soon, the once gloomy and dark pub was packed full of chattering, curious students. Fred and George went to the bartender to order more butterbeer while the other students grabbed chairs. Their focus was on Harry, who Morgan noticed was looked more nervous and slightly embarrassed than before.

She dug one of the books Isis sent her and decided to get a head start on her reading while everyone was still settling down.

* * *

Hermione began the meeting by standing up and clearing her throat to get everyone's attention. "So you all know why we're here. We're taking Defense Against the Dark Arts into our own hands and actually learning how to defend ourselves, not that rubbish Umbridge is teaching us."

"You can say that again," said the Weasley twins, raising the bottles of butterbeer.

Hermione smiled. "So if you're interested in joining us, we need to discuss details of when we're going to meet, where we're going to meet and –"

"Who's going to teach us?" asked a Hufflepuff boy.

"Um, well Harry will."

"_He's_ going to teach us? The one who keeps raving on about You Know Who being back?"

"Who are you?" snarled Ron.

"Zacharias Smith."

"Well, Smith, it's because Harry fought You Know Who last year," snapped Ron.

"That's what _he _said, which is the only reason Dumbledore says it these days."

Ron was about to retort but Harry put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Drop it Ron," said Harry. "They're just here because they want to hear what really happened last year, don't you?" The last part was directed at Smith. "Well, I don't want to talk about Voldemort and I certainly don't want to talk about how Cedric died so if that's what you wanted to hear then you can clear out."

Harry expected people to start leaving but as he scanned the room, all he saw were silent faces watching him – except Morgan, who had buried herself in one of the books her canary had brought her.

"Is it true you can produce a corporal Patronus? One that takes the form of a stag?" asked a girl, Susan Bones if Harry's memory was working properly.

"Er, yeah…"

"Blimely, that's amazing Harry!" exclaimed Lee Jordan.

"Oh oh and I heard you killed a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office!" said Terry Boot excitedly.

"Yeah, I did…"

Someone whistled and a bunch of people gaped in awe at Harry, making his cheeks flush. He noticed Morgan's eyes straying from her book, her green eyes meeting his in surprise.

"Don't forget in our first year Harry saved the Sorcerer Stone from You Know Who," said Neville to the group. "He, Ron, and Hermione got past all the Professors' defensive spells to get to the Stone too."

"Not the mention last year's Triwizard Tournament. He had to get past a dragon, merpeople, and the maze," said Cho, which made Harry blush even more. Cho was _praising _him?

Harry tried not to look too pleased as he cleared his voice to speak, "Look the way you guys all say it makes it sound real great but in truth I nearly always had help and most of that stuff was luck. I'm not trying to be modest here, but I just want to make my point that – "

"What are you talking about, Harry? You got past that dragon all on your own," said Cho.

"And that dementor you fought against in the summer," added Susan Bones.

"Don't forget you threw off the Imperious Curse last year in class," said Dean Thomas.

"Okay so I did some of that stuff on my own but most of it –"

"What he means to say is, are you all still willing to learn from him?" cut in Hermione.

The group was silent but soon people started nodding.

"Good, then I was thinking we should meet no less than once per week – "

"Don't make it clash with our Quidditch practice," interrupted Angelina.

"Nor ours," said Cho

"And ours," said Smith.

"Yes yes, we'll find a night where everyone is available," said Hermione in a slightly exasperated voice. She reached into her bag and pulled out a parchment and quill. "I think everyone should write their name down – so we know who was here. It'll also help us track you down when we've decided a time and place for our first meeting."

Harry noticed nearly everyone was hesitant about signing the parchment. The Weasley twins cheerfully signed their name, along with Lee Jordan. The others looked like they needed some convincing.

"Er, well Hermione, if that list gets found out – you and me being a prefect and all…" mumbled Ernie Macmillan. "Also we have O.W.L.s coming up and –"

Morgan snapped her book shut with a deafening _thump_, catching everyone's attention and making them jump.

"Tell me, what is more important: learning how to defend yourself against Voldemort or your school standing? Because I'm pretty sure Voldemort won't spare your life just because you passed your O.W.L.s." She stood up and grabbed the parchment out of Ernie's hand and signed her name.

"You all need to get your heads out of the clouds and come back down to earth. Fudge thinks Dumbledore is just making trouble for the Ministry but the reality is, Voldemort is back. If you want a chance in hell at surviving, I suggest you learn how to defend yourself. Personally, I would never go down without a fight." Then she briskly took her seat and once more returned to her reading.

There was a long silence as everyone could only stare at this strange girl. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Well, um, so who wants to sign next?"

"But Hermione, if the list is found –"

Morgan cast a dark glare at Ernie, making him freeze in fright.

"Ernie, do I look like I would just leave this list lying around?" said Hermione, trying to reassure him.

"Well, no…" Finally he and everyone else signed the parchment. Then people slowly got up to leave in twos and threes until it was only the original four left.

"I think that went rather well," said Hermione as they got up to leave.

Morgan tucked her book back into her bag before silently following them out the door. She remained silent as they headed back into the busier part of Hogsmeade.

"So where do you think we should hold our first meeting?" asked Ron. "The library?"

"Do you really think Madame Pince would let us practice spells in the library?" asked Hermione.

"Er, good point."

"What about an empty classroom?" asked Harry.

"And risk a teacher walking in on us? I don't think any of the teachers will approve of what we're doing." Hermione sighed. "Well, we'll think of something."

"What's that run down old building over there?" asked Morgan, pointing to the Shrieking Shack.

"Morgan your brilliant!" exclaimed Ron. "We can practice in there! There's no way a teacher could walk in on us and the Whomping Willow will keep Umbridge out."

"Ron, you do realize we'd have a hard time smuggling nearly thirty people out of school without anyone noticing," said Hermione.

Harry thought Ron's idea was good but Hermione had a point. They could barely fit under Harry's Invisibility Cloak – and there were only three of them. How would they going to smuggle thirty people out of Hogwarts every week?

They passed by Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where a nice pheasant quill caught Hermione's eye. She went inside, followed by Ron. Harry was about to go in too when Morgan mumbled something about buying another set of robes. She drifted to the next shop down, Gladrags Wizardwear. This reminded Harry of the detention they had served together last Monday. She must be replacing her torn uniform, thought Harry.

Doubting that Morgan wanted company, Harry entered Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop and found Ron steaming over something Hermione had said.

"What's going on?"

"Ron wants to murder Michael Corner," said Hermione absently as she examined the quills on display.

"Why?"

"Because he's dating Ginny. Yes, I think I want this one." Hermione picked up a silver-gray quill and headed for the cashier.

"What?!"

"That bloke, I swear I'll wring his neck," grumbled Ron.

"Oh stop it, Ron. This is exactly why she didn't tell you earlier." Hermione paid for her quill and they stepped out of the shop. "Where's Morgan?"

"Buying a new set of robes," said Harry, pointing at the shop next door.

"Oh, well I suppose we should wait for her out here." She glanced at Ron, who was noticeably distracted by grumbling death threats to himself, before whispering, "So what's up with you and Cho?"

"Huh?"

"Didn't you notice? She could take her eyes off you back in the Hog's Head." Hermione smiled.

Warmth and something else filled him, making his heart flutter and suddenly, Harry felt as light as air. His euphoria lasted him the rest of the weekend and he was still in a good mood when he met Ron in the common on Monday morning until he saw the new educational decree that had been posted on the Gryffindor notice board.

_By order of the Inquisitor of Hogwarts, all student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No student organization, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. The is inaccordance with Educaitonal Decree Number Twenty-four._

There was much whispering among the Gryffindors, especially those who had been at Hogsmeade. Harry caught Dean and Ginny's questioning eyes but he just shook his head, telling them to drop the subject, but he knew what they were thinking. Could Umbridge have found out about their little Defense Against the Dark Arts club already?

"Come on, Ron. Let's find Hermione and see what she thinks," said Harry.

"I'll get her. She's probably still in her room." Ron ran up the girl's staircase but only managed to reach the sixth stair before the steps suddenly melted to form a slide.

"Wah!!!" Ron lost his footing and slid backwards, landing in a heap next to Harry's feet.

"Er, I'm guessing we're not allowed in the girl's dorms." He gave Ron a hand and helped him to his feet.

"That's not fair! Hermione's always in our room." Ron straightened his tie and uniform.

A few seconds later, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Hermione came sliding down, giggling.

"Ooh, who tried to go up the stairs?" asked Lavender, still giggling.

"Er, me," said Ron. "I was looking for Hermione."

Parvati and Lavender giggled harder and left, heading out the portrait hole.

"Did you need something?" asked Hermione, still smiling.

"Have you seen this?" Ron dragged her over to the notice board. She read the sign intently and frowned. "I bet that Michael bloke ratted out on us –"

"That's not possible."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I jinxed the parchment so if someone did tell Umbridge, we'd know."

"How?"

Hermione smiled, "Let's just say it'll make Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia look beautiful. Let's go down to the Great Hall. I wonder if the other's saw the sign."

"Hang on," said Harry. "Where's Morgan?"

"Oh, she must still be in the room. I'll go get her." Hermione headed back to the staircase but just then there was a loud crash and someone yelled as she tumbled down the slide. A bundle of black robes landed at Hermione's feet followed by a dark red hardcover book.

Morgan sat up looking very sore and irritated. "Who the bloody hell changed the stairs into a slide?!"

"Er…" Ron ducked behind Harry.

She got to her feet, massaging her back as she picked up her book.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. The stairs change into a slide whenever a boy tries to go up to the girl's dorm," apologized Hermione.

Morgan groaned. "Man, it's bad enough I don't get enough sleep these days, but to wake up and have to deal with this first thing in the morning…"

They made their way down to the Great Hall. Hermione filled Morgan in on the Educational Decree Number ermiHTwenty-four.

"But don't worry. We still plan to carry on," said Hermione with a smile.

Morgan, however still looked troubled. "I wonder if this is just a coincidence…"

"Well, like I said before, the parchment is jinxed so we'll know immediately if someone ratted us out."

"What if Umbridge disguised herself and listened in at the Hog's Head?" asked Ron.

Morgan shook her head. "No. None of the occupants could have been her. She's too short and her features are too noticeable."

"How would you know? You were practically buried behind your book the whole time," said Ron.

Morgan ignored him as she took her seat. She only grabbed a few pieces of toast as she once more opened her book and returned to reading.

"What is it that you're reading anyways?" asked Hermione, curious as she twisted her head to try and read the spine.

Harry, who was sitting next to Morgan, tried to peer over her shoulder to see but the way she sat made it impossible for him to even glimpse the page number.

"It's just extra reading my guardian sent me," said Morgan vaguely, making Harry feel like she was hiding something.

Just then, Harry spotted Ernie and Michael heading towards them with concerned looks on their faces. They must have seen the educational decree sign too.

"Those idiot! Don't they know they're going to make a scene?" hissed Hermione. "Sit down! We'll talk _later_!" she mouthed using her arms to wave them away. Luckily they got the message.

"Harry! Ron!" called Angelina, running up to them.

"What is it Angelina?" asked Ron.

"If it's about the Defense Against the –"

"No, don't you see? Umbridge is including Quidditch in the Educational Decree!"

"WHAT?!" they exclaimed loudly.

Angelina nodded. "Yeah, teams are included so I'm _begging_ you Harry, don't lose your temper or we may not get to play at all this year."

"Okay okay! I promise I won't lose my temper," said Harry as a sinking feeling filled his stomach.

"I'll make sure he doesn't, even if I have to shove my foot down his throat to do it," said Ron, giving her a thumbs-up.

Angelina nodded and continued down the table to spread the word to the other members.

"You don't think Umbridge would actually forbid the Gryffindor Quidditch team from reforming, do you?" asked Ron.

"I hope not…" Harry checked his watch as he started on his breakfast. There was fifteen minutes left before class started. He needed to hurry and –

Suddenly Morgan sat bolt upright, looking alert and alarmed. She shoved her book into her bag and leaped to her feet.

"Hey, where you going?" asked Harry but she was already sprinting out of the Great Hall. She practically ran over the Creevey brothers in her haste to the double doors.

Hermione was watching with a very serious and suspicious look that made Harry wonder what was going on with that girl.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Morgan sprinted down the lawn and ran across the grounds as fast as she could, towards the Forbidden Forest.

Cover… she needed to find cover.

She could hear Leita's cries for help in her head the whole way there. As soon as she reached the line of trees Morgan shifted her form into that of a falcon and took flight. She sensed Leita was somewhere around the edge of Hogsmeade, and she pumped her wings, racing in that direction.

She was flying over the Hog's Head when Morgan received an image from Leita of her and Hedwig huddled on the roof of the Shrieking Shack. Sending the canary a wave of reassurance, Morgan turned and headed up the hill where the run-down house was located. She spotted the two birds huddled by the chimney.

Morgan circled once before landing next to them.

_What happened Leita?_ asked Morgan.

_ She was attacked!_ _Someone was trying to steal her mail. I didn't see who because they had a cloak on but I had to help her. We barely got away and she's hurt really badly._

Morgan approached the snowy owl slowly, trying not to alarm it. The owl was far more intelligent than Morgan thought possible. It was like she knew Morgan wasn't a normal bird but, at the same time, knew that she was trying to help her, not hurt her.

When she was close enough, Morgan assessed the owl's injuries. Her most blatant injury was her broken wing. Someone had man-handled her very roughly, almost like they were trying to prevent her from escaping. Hedwig also had several burns from narrowly-missed spells and one of her legs had a deep gash in it.

Morgan sent a wave of comfort into the owl's mind, trying to sooth and ease some of the pain. It was then that she noticed the letter tied to Hedwig's uninjured leg.

_Is that for Harry?_

Hedwig hooted softly. Morgan took that as a yes. The owl tried to rise but its injury was too severe. Morgan felt her heart clench at the loyalty this bird showed to her master. It reminded her of the bond shared between spirit beasts and Sorcery.

_Easy there, Hedwig._ Morgan shifted back into her human form and gently scooped Hedwig into her arms.

"Sssh. It'll be all right," she said softly, stroking the owl's head.

Morgan sense the owl's thoughts. She was more worried about delivering the letter than her own health.

"Don't worry. I'll get you to Harry. You can trust me." _Are you okay, Leita?_

Leita nodded.

"All right then, let's go."

The journey back was more difficult. Morgan levitated herself so she could fly back to Hogwarts but she had to hide in the clouds or else risk being spotted by either wizards in Hogsmeade or students on the grounds or in the castle. By the time she landed on the Astronomy Tower, she was soaked to the bones from the moisture in the clouds and shivering from the cold.

_At this rate, I'll have pneumonia by tonight._

Morgan made her way down the tower and back into the main part of the castle. She paused by the stairs, wondering who she should bring Hedwig to, Harry or Professor Grubby-Plank. Grubby-Plank seemed the obvious choice since she was the Care of Magical Creatures instructor, but Morgan knew Hedwig would first want to deliver her letter, regardless of her broken wing.

"I'm sorry, Hedwig, but I have to take you to Grubby-Plank. It's for your own good."

The owl gave Morgan a reproachful look.

"I promise I'll deliver the letter for you, okay?" Morgan sent her emotions into the owl's mind, trying to prove her sincerity and her concern for the owl's well-being.

After a minute, Hedwig finally gave in. Morgan removed the letter from her leg and tucked it into her pocket before rushing down the marble staircase, heading for the staffroom where she hoped Grubby-Plank was.

In her haste, she forgot to knock and simply threw open the door. "Professor Grubby-Plank!" Morgan found herself facing a very surprised Professor McGonagall, who had been standing by the staffroom door.

The woman quickly recovered and her face turned into a very displeased scowl. "Miss Risika, how dare you come bursting in here like that! Why aren't you in class?"

"Please Professor, I'm looking for Professor Grubby-Plank. This owl is hurt and she needs help."

McGonagall's eyebrow shot up as she recognized Hedwig in Morgan's arms. "What are you doing with Potter's owl?"

"I saw her on the grounds when I was –uh, going back to Gryffindor Tower because I forgot my notes. I think her wing is broken."

"Let's have a look," said Professor Grubby-Plank, coming up from behind McGonagall with a pipe in her mouth. Morgan gently placed Hedwig in Grubby-Plank's arms. She examined Hedwig's wing carefully, gently running her fingers up and down the owl's feathers.

"It looks like she was attacked. But by what I'm not sure…"

"Could it have been a Thestral?" asked McGonagall but Grubby-Plank shook her head.

"No, Hagrid has the herd well trained to not attack owls. There are burns on her underside… very strange."

"Er, will she be all right, Professor?" asked Morgan.

"Oh I wouldn't be too worried about her. I'll have her good as new in a few days. She just needs some rest."

Morgan smiled with relief. "Thank you, Professor."

"Come, Risika, I'll escort you back to class." Morgan followed McGonagall out and up the marble staircase. But instead of taking her down the corridor where Binn's classroom was, she led her down another corridor and into an empty classroom.

McGonagall closed the door behind her and rounded on Morgan with a serious face. "Tell me exactly what happened this morning. I saw you run out of the Great Hall with more urgency than you just forgetting your notes. You ran like the devil himself was after you."

Morgan bit her lip at having been caught lying and quickly explained Leita's distress call. McGonagall's scowl deepened as Morgan finished.

"Spell work, you say… someone was obviously trying to read Potter's letter. Who was the letter from?"

Morgan shrugged. "I didn't check but it's in my pocket."

McGonagall nodded. "Very well, I will inform Professor Dumbledore of this. Make sure Potter gets that letter. You're dismissed."

"Yes, Professor."

By the time Morgan arrived at History of Magic, the class was almost over. Ron, Harry, and Hermione gave her funny looks but she shook her head. As soon as they were in a secluded corner in the courtyard they bombarded her with questions.

"Where did you run off to this morning?" "Why did you miss class?" "And why are your robes all damp?"

"Hold on, hold on! Let me explain," said Morgan with her hands up. "I forgot my notes this morning and ran back to get them. While I was in the Entrance Hall, I saw Hedwig crash-land and went to help her. The grass was wet from morning dew so my robes got wet. Um, anyways, Hedwig's wing was broken and she looked like she'd been attacked so I took her to Grubby-Plank. Don't worry," added Morgan, seeing Harry's alarmed expression. "Grubby-Plank says she'll be fine after she's rested a few days."

"But why was she attacked?" asked Ron.

"I think it might be because of this." Morgan pulled out Harry's letter from her pocket. "I think someone's trying to read your mail, Harry."

She handed it over and Harry stared at it with a shocked look on his face.

"Who's it from?" asked Ron.

Harry remained silent, still staring at the cover of the envelope. Morgan suspected he already knew without opening it due to the handwriting. He then looked up at her with suspicion in his eyes.

Morgan threw up her hands and shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

Okay so that had been a lie. She couldn't resist a peek into Harry's mind, which told her it was from his godfather, Sirius Black – a wizard who's been on the run for the past two years. No one at Hogwarts except the Weasleys and Hermione knew that Sirius was still keeping contact with Harry. He was also part of the Order so naturally everyone in the Order knew. However, Sirius Black was of no concern to her. Her only job was to protect Harry so Sirius Black can do whatever he wanted – as long as he didn't put Harry in danger.

Morgan picked up her backpack and swung it over her shoulder before walking back inside, heading for the Gryffindor Tower. She intended to change out of her damp robes into fresh, dry ones before heading back down for Double Potions.

* * *

Okay, Morgan took it back, Sirius Black was a _big_ concern of hers – he nearly got caught last night while talking with Harry in the fireplace!

Morgan had been practicing intermediate fire magic when she was practically kicked out of the common room by two very anxious prefects and one panicking Harry Potter. Hermione had come up with some silly excuse about Morgan needing her sleep and half-dragged her to their dorm before locking her in and returning back downstairs. Obviously she didn't know Morgan could just phase into her shadow and reappear back in the common room, which is what she did, but she hid in the shadows to keep watch over the trio.

And it was a good thing she did too. Having learned how to communicate using fire magic from her recent readings, she had a pretty good understanding of the wizards' Floo Network. Morgan was able to sense when Umbridge had entered the Floo Network and forcefully repelled Sirius from his fireplace before Umbridge could grab him. If Umbridge had got to Sirius first, that would've landed both him and Harry in deep trouble with the Ministry.

_If I ever meet this Sirius Black I swear I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. This bodyguard job is hard enough. If he lands Harry in prison I am so not going to go and bust the kid out._

Morgan stabbed furiously at her steak the next night. On top of last night's near miss, Harry had Quidditch practice tonight at seven. It was dark, rainy, and cold outside and Morgan still had a huge pile of homework to do. This was just perfect.

"You know, if you keep stabbing at your steak like that you might as well have meatloaf," said Harry.

Morgan glared at him, making him flinched.

"Right… none of my business. Er, let's go Ron. It's almost seven." Harry and Ron got up and pulled on their cloaks. They hurried off, leaving Morgan alone at the table. Hermione had already returned to Gryffindor Tower to finish her homework.

Morgan sighed, envious of Hermione's free time, and slung on her backpack before getting up and following after Harry and Ron to the Quidditch pitch.

_I suppose it would be good practice to try and conjure fire in the rain…_

* * *

It was nearly nine when Morgan trudged into the locker room looking for Potter and Weasley. The rain had been intense and Morgan couldn't see any of them as the Quidditch team practiced. She was just lucky that Angelina blew her whistle right above her to indicate that practice had ended or else Morgan would still be sitting up on the bleachers freezing her ass off.

Morgan pulled back the hood of her cloak and glanced around the room. She spotted Potter and Weasley alone talking in hushed voices; the other players must have already left. Morgan stayed to the shadows and listened to the boys' conversation.

"Are you all right, mate?" asked Ron.

Harry grunted as he rubbed his forehead. "It's my scar again… it hurts but not as bad as the welcoming feast."

"Did you see a vision or something?"

"No… but I felt him, Ron. He's… angry – no, furious."

"Furious? About what?"

"Something… something's not being done fast enough… he's really angry and losing his patience," muttered Harry as he concentrated.

"Was he mad that last time with Umbridge too?"

"No… no he was…" Harry paused. "He was… happy. He was really happy over something."

Ron whistled. "You should take over Divinations, mate."

"Look, I'm not predicting the future or anything. I'm just…"

"Predicting You-Know-Who's mind?"

"More like reading his emotions… like a mood ring. Dumbledore said last year my scar would hurt whenever Voldemort was near or when he was feeling a deep sense of hatred. I guess now that he's back I can feel when he's really happy too."

Morgan frowned over this new tidbit. If Harry could predict the Dark Lord's emotions then the connection between their minds was strengthening. She needed to reinforce Harry's walls tonight and maybe every night for the rest of this assignment. But the strength of their connection was quite frightening. How could their minds be linked so strongly and so naturally, like they were once a single being?

She heard cloaks being thrown on as the boys rose to leave. Morgan phased into the shadows just as they passed by. She followed them back into the castle and reappeared in the common room just as they climbed in through the portrait hole. Now that Harry was safely in Gryffindor Tower, Morgan decided to head up to her dormitory to take a hot shower and start her homework. She was halfway across the room when Hermione called out to her.

"Morgan! There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

"What is it Hermione?" asked Morgan, curiously. Hermione dragged her over to her table, which was covered with books and parchments of notes.

"Where were you? I checked everywhere for you: the Great Hall, the Library, our dormitory…"

"I was…er," Morgan searched her mind for some excuse. Hermione was watching her intently. "I was in the Owlery. I was sending a letter home to my guardian."

Hermione raised one eyebrow, questioning. "The Owlery… at nine o'clock? Are there any owls up there this late at night?"

"Well, er…"

"And you do realize we're not allowed out in the corridors after nine?"

"Er… "

"Not to mention you're completely soaked and last I checked the Owlery had a roof."

_Damn, she's got me._ Hermione was studying her with suspicion in her eyes. Her lips were pursed as she waited for Morgan to explain herself, but what could she say? The truth wasn't exactly an option right now.

"Look, Hermione, I have a lot of homework to do. Can we just drop this? So I was out a little late. It's only fifteen minutes after nine. And look," Morgan pointed, "Harry and Ron came in after nine and I don't see you scolding them."

Hermione crossed her arms. "That's because they were at Quidditch practice. As a prefect, I want to know where you've been this whole time?"

"And if I don't tell you?"

"I'll go straight to McGonagall and tell her you've been out of bounds repeatedly."

Morgan didn't see this as much a threat since McGonagall knew what Morgan was _really_ doing but she'd probably still put Morgan in detention as a cover up. Though, as long as Potter didn't land himself in detention again, Morgan probably wouldn't actually have to serve detention. But all the same, Morgan supposed she should act like she was afraid of Hermione's threat…

"There's no need to go that far, Hermione. Look, I'll make you a deal. I promise I won't go wandering around after curfew anymore if you let this topic drop this time."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she scowled. "And if you break your promise?"

"You can go to McGonagall and she'll put me in detention and I won't complain one bit."

Morgan could tell Hermione was considering this carefully, but in the end, her scowl lessened to a slight frown and she nodded in agreement. "All right, it's a deal."

They shook on it but just as Morgan was about to pull away, Hermione's hand tightened.

"Morgan, remember this: The second you break this promise I will go straight to McGonagall, and I swear I will personally put you in detention – or did you forget prefects have that power?"

Morgan gulped.

"I will be keeping a very close eye on you so don't think you can sneak out of bed in the middle of the night," said Hermione in a low, dangerous voice. This mortal was not someone Morgan wanted to mess with when it came to rules and schoolwork.

Morgan nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Hermione."

"Hey, Hermione!" called Ron from across the room. He and Harry were sitting in front of the fireplace working on their homework. "Can you take a look at my Potions essay?"

"Sure." Hermione gave Morgan one last meaningful glare before moving to sit down next to Ron.

Morgan sighed with relief. Damn the girl was too sharp for her own good.

The night passed at a snail's pace. Morgan worked on her homework in a secluded corner in the common room. Hermione refused to go to bed until Morgan finished her homework – no doubt making sure Morgan didn't sneak out while Hermione was asleep. She sat in a nearby armchair knitting little hats and socks. When Morgan asked why she was making them for the house elves, Hermione began what felt like a long, rehearsed speech on how house elves were being mistreated as slaves when they should be paid workers. Morgan listened absently as she finished her Potions essay.

It was around one in the morning when Hermione fell asleep in her chair. Morgan sighed as she set down her quill. Glancing around, she realized Hermione wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep in the common room. Across the room, she spotted Harry fast asleep in his armchair – his potions book laid forgotten on the floor.

Morgan grabbed her cloak, which had dried, and wrapped it around Harry. She then lifted Hermione onto her back and carried the girl up to their room. After making sure Hermione was settled in bed, she returned to the common room, intending to take Harry back to his room. She had placed her hand on his arm when suddenly her mind was sucked into his dream again.

Familiar dark corridors surrounded them as Harry proceeded with great urgency down the hall. Morgan sensed his excitement growing as a door drew near. She became curious as to what was on the other side of the door. His hand was only an inch from the doorknob when a voice jolted both of them awake.

"Harry Potter, sir!"

"Waaah!"

Morgan ducked behind his armchair as Harry jumped to his feet.

"Who's there?" Harry squinted in the dark, trying to identify the voice.

"It's me, sir, Dobby!" squeaked a voice.

"Dobby?"

Morgan peered around the armchair to see an elf-like creature dressed in layers upon layers of clothes. And by the looks of the elf's hats and socks, it looked like he was wearing all of Hermione's elf clothes.

"What are you doing here, Dobby?"

"Professor Grubby-Plank has sent Dobby to return Harry Potter's owl to him, sir."

"Hedwig!" The snowy owl, which had been perched on Dobby's tower of hats, hooted softly as it fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Dobby."

Dobby bowed. "Any time, sir. Dobby has been cleaning Gryffindor Tower every night in hopes of meeting Harry Potter and tonight Dobby's wish finally came true! If Harry Potter ever needs anything, sir, he can always ask Dobby."

"Well, it's good to see you again Dobby and I'll keep that in mind."

Dobby bowed again. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir. You dropped your cloak."

"My cloak?"

Morgan cursed under her breath as Harry bent to picked up her cloak.

"This isn't my cloak."

"Oh, then perhaps it is Young Mistress' cloak."

"Young Mistress?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Young Mistress is hiding behind your armchair."

"What?"

Cursing herself again, Morgan quickly phased into her shadow. By the time Harry's head rounded the corner, Morgan was gone.

* * *

"I think you're hallucinating, Dobby," said Harry. He pushed himself back up to his feet by using the armchair as a support and caught sight of the white scar on his hand, reminding him of Umbridge and her detention.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Hey, Dobby. I think there is something you can do for me."

The elf bowed with a smile of excitement. "Anything, Harry Potter. Anything."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Hermione had made good on her threat and put Morgan in detention for a week first thing the next morning. Though Morgan had tried to explain to her that she had been in the common room the entire time, Hermione wouldn't believe her. What was worse, Hermione said she was going to personally see to Morgan's detention, along with Professor McGonagall.

"How am I supposed to watch Potter if I'm stuck in detention?" exclaimed Morgan as soon as she was alone with McGonagall in the staffroom the next day.

McGonagall sighed. "You should have thought of that before you snuck out at night."

"But Professor, it's my _job_ to follow Potter around. That's the only reason I'm even in this school! And it's not my fault that boy likes to stay out late!"

"Miss Granger is a very observant and bright girl, you know that. You should have been more discreet when tailing Potter."

"But I –"

McGonagall held a hand up for silence. "Enough. Miss Risika, you will serve out your week's worth of detention starting tonight in my office. Be here by seven. You're dismissed."

Morgan wanted to argue more but McGonagall's tone left no more room for arguing. So instead, Morgan stormed out of the staffroom muttering darkly under her breath. This was so unfair. She was only following orders – order that she needn't be given if it wasn't for a certain wizard boy, but that said wizard boy's best friend was being a real pain in the rear and hounding Morgan with detention, making her job as a body guard ten times more difficult than it already was. Gods she wanted to scream out her frustration!

Morgan was still cursing her predicament when she accidentally ran into someone in the Entrance Hall.

"Sorry," she muttered, moving around the boy.

"It's okay – Hey, you're that transfer student, right?"

Morgan looked up and suddenly realized she had bumped into one of the Weasley twins. Was he Fred or George?

"Er, yeah. Sorry about that," Morgan muttered hesitantly.

"Don't worry about it. We've been looking for you."

"We?"

Morgan nearly jumped a foot into the air as his twin seemed to have magically stepped out from behind him. "Yup," smiled the newcomer.

"Oh er…what for?" asked Morgan. She was starting to feel dizzy at the sight of them standing next to each other like some twisted mirror game.

"Well Harry told us to spread the word that our first meeting is tonight at 8," said the first twin.

"Meeting? What meeting?" asked Morgan, drawing up a blank.

"Did you forget already?" The second twin leaned in closer to whisper, "The secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meeting."

"Oh… damn. I can't go," replied Morgan in an equally low whisper.

"Why not?"

"I have –"

"Detention?" filled in one of the twins.

"Yeah." Morgan sighed. "Hermione put me in detention for a week."

"Whoa!"

"Merlin's Beard! That's harsh."

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, kind of snuck out at night one too many times…" she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.

The twins blinked. "That's it?"

"Er… yeah?"

Identical fires of mischief bloomed in their blue eyes. Morgan took a step back, wary of what was going through their minds. They each draped an arm over Morgan's shoulder and steered her towards the Great Hall while smiling brightly.

"Don't you worry about a thing."

"This," one of the twins pulled out a half-purple, half-orange chewy candy from his pocket, "is the solution to all your problems."

Morgan blinked in confusion. "Er, what is it?"

"This, my fair lady, is a Puking Pastille," said the first twin with pride.

"You eat the orange half and you'll start puking like mad."

Morgan grimaced. "That's disgusting!"

"Ah! But wait, there's more. After you're excused from detention –"

"You eat the purple half and you're cured!"

Morgan eyed the candy warily. "That can't be good for your stomach."

The twins shrugged. "What's a little stomach ache compared to a whole night of freedom?"

They did have a point, thought Morgan. And she'll be able to meet up with the others for the secret club meeting. Hermione would probably find a way to wiggle out of detention tonight to go to the meeting as well.

_She can't be mad at me for wanting to go to the meeting. After all, this club was her idea…_

"All right, I'll take it." Morgan reached out to grab the candy but Fred pulled it out of her reach.

"Tut tut tut." He wiggled his finger. "You didn't think we'd actually give it to you for free did you?"

"We're trying to start a business here, my lady," said George. "We'll give you a discount as a new customer. Two sickles for a week's worth of Puking Pastilles."

Morgan folded her arms and frowned. "How do I know they actually work?"

"I can demonstrate right now."

"But you might want to step back," whispered Fred behind one hand. "He doesn't have the best of aim when he's puking."

Morgan cringed in disgust. "Never mind. Forget I asked."

"Okay, how about this: We'll give you this one for free as a trial run, and if you're happy with your result, you can come to us tomorrow for more."

Morgan sighed. "I doubt I'll be happy with puking my guts out but if it gets me out of detention then it's fine by me."

Fred placed the candy in Morgan's hand and shook it. "Glad to do business with you Miss –"

"What was your name again?" asked George.

"Risika. Morgan Risika."

" – Miss Risika."

"We hope you continue to buy our products."

"Enjoy!" They winked and sauntered off to sit with their friend, Lee Jordan.

Morgan examined the little chewy candy after taking her seat at the Gryffindor table. It was lunchtime and most of her fellow Gryffindors were almost done with their meal. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were farther down the table talking in hushed voices – probably about the meeting tonight, suspected Morgan.

She returned her attention back onto the little chewy candy from the Weasley twins. Holding it up to the light, the candy looked harmless enough. No one would ever suspect that one side would make the user puke while the other side would cure the user. It truly was a work of ingenuity if she ever saw one.

_If this works I swear I'll buy a month's worth from those two…._

**

* * *

**

I'm going to kill them the next chance I get, thought Morgan darkly as she laid awake in the Hospital Wing that night.

The night didn't exactly go according to plan – actually it went _nothing_ close to how she planned!

Morgan had arrived in McGonagall's office right at seven and at quarter to eight, she ate the candy. She tried to excuse herself to go to the Hospital Wing but that was where everything went horribly, _horribly _wrong.

McGonagall insisted on escorting her while Morgan tried to argue between mouthfuls of puke. In the end, McGonagall won and had her at the Hospital Wing in a heartbeat. There Madame Pomfrey gave her a giant bucket for her vomit while she bustled about looking for a cure. Morgan was about to eat the other half of the Puking Pastille when the school nurse bumped into her, knocking the candy out of her hand and into the bin.

But wait, things got even better.

At that _exact_ moment, McGonagall decided to vanish the contents of the bin.

Good bye, cure. Hello, nightmare.

Morgan spent the rest of her night drinking some horrible-smelling potion – which burned her throat and set her stomach on fire – and puking into a bin. Luckily, by midnight, the potion finally kicked in and the puking ceased.

Unfortunately, Morgan was left feeling weak and feverish. She could barely move her head and her limbs might as well have been made of lead. Madame Pomfrey said it was the side effects of the potion and that Morgan only needed to sleep it off.

"You'll be good as new by morning," said the nurse as she turned off the lights and closed the door to the Hospital Wing.

Good as new my ass, thought Morgan as she glared up at the ceiling.

_I knew I shouldn't have eaten that stupid candy. Hell, I should've just manipulated McGonagall's memory into thinking I'd served detention and gone to the meeting; but no, I had to take the Weasley twin's advice. I swear, tomorrow, as soon as I get out of here, I will hunt them down and wring their stupid necks!_

But as her luck would have it, she ended up staying in the hospital wing for the next three days lying in bed suffering from some form of pain or another. She kept experiencing strange side-effects from all the potions Madame Pomfrey shoved down her throat. Morgan was starting to dread the sound of the witch's office door opening. It only meant another round of choking down some disgusting liquid and then probably puking it back up.

_God damn it, I need a real Healer._ _If only Laris was here…_

Morgan knew her best friend would be able to figure what was wrong with her in a heartbeat and fix her right up. Too bad Morgan hadn't stayed conscious long enough to ask if Leita had stopped by since Madame Pomfrey kept insisting she sleep and gave her a potion to knock her out. That was probably the only potion that was actually doing what it was supposed to.

Just then, the dreaded nurse walked into the Hospital Wing bearing a steaming goblet of another round of hell. Morgan eyed the bronze cup with dread and tried to bolt out of bed, but in her haste, her feet got tangled in the sheets and she toppled painfully onto the stone floor.

"Now, Miss Risika!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey with one hand on her waist. "What are you doing? Lying on the stone floor will certainly not help you get better. Now get back into bed and drink this. It should fix you right up."

_Lady, that is the five hundredth time you've said that and I am _still_ in the Hospital Wing! Like hell I'm going to take anymore of your crazy medicine!_

Morgan tried to scramble away but Madam Pomfrey bewitched the sheets to drag her back onto the hospital bed and wrapped around her like a straightjacket. The nurse then forced the disgusting red liquid down Morgan's throat, causing her the choke as the smell of licorice and bitter melon assaulted her nose. She ended up hacking the whole thing back up and shuddered from the aftertaste.

"Miss Risika! We cannot have you spitting up every potion I give you! You'll never get better that way. I'm going to go fetch another goblet and this time you better drink it all in one gulp."

As the nurse headed back to her office, Morgan began frantically trying to free herself from her restraints but to no avail. The sheets were wrapped too tightly around her. Her arms were bound to her side and she couldn't move her feet. Morgan doubted she'd be able to even stand up straight without falling over.

Morgan flopped back on the pillow with a frustrated moan.

_Laris, save me! This crazy mortal is trying to kill me!_

* * *

**oo00oo000oo00oo**

**

* * *

**

_Several weeks later,_

"Ooooo! Wow, it's so _big_," breathed Laris, craning her neck up to try and see to top of the castle. "I've never seen anything this huge before in my life!"

Bane snorted and rolled his golden eyes. "Humans…always finding ridiculous ways to waste space. What's wrong with a simple cottage or a tent?"

"I'm sure these mortals have a lot of apprentices that need to be sheltered and tutored – unlike the Sorcery." Laris sighed. The numbers in each generation of Sorcery was growing smaller and smaller. This year the School only accepted twelve apprentices – that was half as many as the apprentices accepted when Laris first started attending the School. They were a dying race. No one was sure exactly why fewer and fewer Sorcery were born each year but Laris suspected that being cooped up in an artificial world on top of having five times the lifespan of a normal human was the main reason for her people's rapid decline. Then there was the threat that existed outside their world…

Laris glanced around nervously across the grassy grounds but then shook her head, feeling silly. What was she getting all jumpy about? There was no way she'd run into Redia here. Sure this was her first time going off-world alone but that didn't mean she'd immediately run into the rogue sorcerer, right? There are hundreds – _thousands_ – of different worlds. What was the chance of him being on this one?

I'm just being paranoid, she told herself but that didn't stop her hands from growing damp as they clutched the strap of her brown messenger bag.

_ Right, I'm on a mission. I came to this world for a reason and I'm not going to let my imagination scare me off._

Determined to see this through, she marched up the stone steps and proceeded with knocking on the giant double doors. Each knock was like thunder, echoing down the stone hallway inside the castle.

Laris waited patiently for someone to let her in but after several minutes she started tapping her feet irritably. Normally, she could wait a whole hour before growing impatient but she had been feeling on edge ever since she stepped through the portal that she couldn't help her moodiness. Besides, they were supposed to be expecting her – at least she _assumed_ they were since Morgan was sick.

Ten minutes went by and Laris finally reached the end of her patience.

"Bane, open the door," she ordered.

"Wouldn't that be rude? We'd be barging in, uninvited," said the spirit wolf.

"And we've been standing out here for twenty minutes. I call that rude too now hop do it," snapped Laris.

The wolf sighed. "Yes, my lady." The wolf got off his hunches and proceeded straight for the door – passing right through the thick wood. His body shimmered in white light as it passed through the door and in a few seconds he'd completely vanished.

"Laris, are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Leita, who had been sitting on Laris' left shoulder. "What if there are wards and spells? Bane can't undo those."

"Oh no! I hadn't thought of that! Why didn't you say something sooner?" exclaimed Laris and she hastily began pounding on the door. "Bane! Can you hear me? Bane! Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?" replied the wolf. "Please just be patient. I'll unlock the door for you in a min –" Suddenly, the wolf went very quiet.

"Bane? Bane? Hello? Can you hear me?" called Laris anxiously. "Bane!"

"I'm… I'm fine Laris but we have a problem," said the wolf hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"The uh, door… I can't open it."

"Why not?" asked Laris.

"Is it because its warded?" asked Leita.

"No it's not that. It's just locked… we're going to need the key to unlock it."  
"Oh… darn," muttered Laris.

"Would you like me to search for the key?" asked Bane.

"No that'll take too long and Morgan's message sounded urgent… Leita, how do you get in everyday?"

"Through the mail window. I follow the owls. There's a window that leads to the great hall but don't tell me you're going to go in through there! What if the mortals see you?" exclaimed Leita.

Laris frowned. "Would you please give me some credit, Leita. I am training to be a member of the Scry-Web and that means I do have a brain, you know."

"Yes but scrying and shape-shifting are two different types of magic," said Bane as he reappeared on their side of the door and sat down on his hind legs. "Scrying is telepathic magic, including illusions and wards. Shape-shifting, on the other hand, is a more practical magic that requires both mental and physical strength. You're obviously an accomplish scryer, Laris, but do you have to strength to match it?"

Laris sighed. "No… I'm not like Morgan and Matthew. I don't enjoy partaking in sweaty exercises. I prefer quiet meditation over hand-to-hand combat. But what else do you want me to do? Morgan needs me!"

Leita and Bane exchanged worried glances but they nodded in understanding.

"Very well, Laris. Leita will guide you inside. Leave you pack with me. I will find my way through the forest and meet you on the other side. This castle will probably have a bad door of some sort. Find and open one and I will enter through there," said Bane.

"Oh thank you, Bane. You're the best!" Laris knelt down and hugged him around his neck. Then she quickly removed her bag and tied it securely around the wolf, making sure the bag wouldn't get in his way when he ran. "There. All set."

"Okay. It's your turn Laris. Start off with something small so you won't get as tired. It's a long way up," said Leita and she took flight.

Laris took a deep breath and concentrated. She pictured Leita in her mind – a small, yellow canary. She held the image in her mind and summoned her magic from deep inside her to begin the change. The shape-shifting was the easy part, actually. It was the flying that nearly killed her.

Laris pumped her tiny wings wearily as she followed Leita up along the castle walls. Everything seemed twenty times as big and that included the distance to the open window. Laris had to rest twice and catch her breath. Flying was a lot harder than she'd thought. She had to constantly pump her wings to climb up and her arms were completely sore.

_I should practice shape-shifting more often. I never thought I'd have this much trouble with flying…_

Finally, after she had rested enough, the two canaries made it to the open window and sat on the ledge to peer cautiously inside. It looked pretty deserted but Laris suspected it wouldn't be for long. They had arrived around late morning and she predicted lunch would soon be served. They needed to use this small window of opportunity to get in and out of sight.

Laris led the way, leaping off the window ledge, descending down and landing on the stone floor. By the time Laris had returned to her original form, Leita was already fluttering by the double doors, chirping for her to follow.

"Do you even know where you're going?" hissed Laris as she hastily caught up to her spirit beast.

"Nope but at least I've been inside the castle," said Leita. "Come on. This way! There's a big door down this hallway."

But Laris had only taken a few steps into the Entrance Hall when suddenly the door Leita was referring to burst open and a very angry and stern looking woman marched in followed by three boys in matching scarlet robes. Two of them looked exactly alike with flaming red hair and bright freckles on pale skin. The third boy had jet black hair and round glasses. Laris thought the dark boy seemed vaguely familiar and it took her an extra second to recall his name – Harry Potter.

Unfortunately, the extra second she spent digging through her memory cost her the chance to hide and the stern woman spotted her standing awkwardly in the hallway.

"Excuse me, young lady, but who are you?" asked the woman in a sharp tone.

Laris flinched under the woman's close scrutiny and answered politely. "I'm here to see Morgan. She's apparently very ill."

The woman's dark eyebrows rose above her hairline and she quickly glanced behind her at the three boys she was obviously in charge of. She seemed to be doing some quick thinking and obviously came to a decision as she turned back to address Laris.

"Very well. Would you follow me? I'm afraid I must take care of some business first but I will escort you to the Hospital Wing right after I'm done," said the woman.

Laris nodded and bowed out of courtesy. "Thank you, ma'am."

The woman nodded then rounded on the three boys. "To my office, now!" she barked.

Laris flinched again and was secretly grateful that fierce tone wasn't directed at her – though she did pitied the boys.

_I wonder what they did to make this woman so angry…_

Just then a howl from the window sounded. Laris gasped as she realized she'd forgotten about Bane. Laris quickly rushed to the door and heaved to push the giant piece of wood open. The door creaked open just enough for Bane to slip through before it was closed shut by the wind outside.

"Thanks for remembering me," he growled.

"Sorry," whispered Laris as she caught the four mortals eying them curiously. She cleared her voice and spoke in a louder tone. "Er, sorry about this. He's my assistant you see and um…" Laris trailed off, not too sure how or if she should even explain to mortals what a spirit beast was.

Luckily she was saved. The woman scowled and ignored Bane like he was just a normal wolf and said, "If you're done dawdling, please come this way." The woman turned and began marching up a flight of stairs. The boys followed and Laris and Bane brought up the rear.

Apparently, the woman's office was on the second floor and after she directed the boys to enter, she politely asked Laris to wait outside before slamming the door in her face. After several long seconds of silence, she heard the woman's voice break out in a furious snarl as she yelled at the boys for misconduct and poor sportsmanship. There was something about a game and competition, and the word "Quidditch" kept popping up along with "Gryffindor" – whatever that word was…

As Laris waited awkwardly outside in the hall, she noted the sounds of people entering the castle from the grounds getting steadily louder. She assumed they were heading for the Dining Hall to have lunch.

"Where do you supposed the Hospital Wing is?" asked Laris as she leaned against the wall.

"No idea," said Leita as she hopped onto the window sill next to Laris. "This castle is really big. Without someone to guide us, I think we'll get lost."

Laris sighed. "This is taking too long. Morgan needs me. I have to find her."

Bane stood up and stretched. "I could try sniffing her out, though I fear her scent might be buried under these mortals'. They permeate the air and everything just seems so stuffy in here." Bane wrinkled his nose for emphasis at his annoyance.

"It can't hurt to try. Go for it, Bane," said Laris.

Bane nodded and began sniffing the air and stone floor. His head swung side to side as he tried to pick out Morgan's immortal scent among the thousands of mortal ones. There was nothing in the immediate vicinity so Bane decided to move closer to the stairs, where more people tended to traverse. He had just turned his head around the corner when someone shrieked in fright, causing Bane to jump backwards and make a hasty retreat back into their corridor.

"What is that _thing_ doing in here?" came a disgusted, high-pitched voice.

"I don't know, Professor. But I'll catch 'em," came a scruffy reply.

Suddenly two mortals came around the corner – one was a squat, toady woman in pink and the other was a hunched back man in a brown coat with thin, gray hair. He was advancing on Bane with a broom in hand, as if he intended to beat the wolf with it. The man moved with a slight hobble and by his side was a dust-colored cat with luminous yellow eyes who also hissed at Bane as it followed its master.

"Wait, stop! He's with me!" exclaimed Laris, jumping in front of Bane with her arms out to protect him.

"And who are you?" asked the short woman, looking Laris up and down. "Since you're not wearing the school uniform you're obviously not from Hogwarts. State you business young lady."

Laris lowered her arms as she hastily tried to come up with an answer. "I, uh… I'm here to see a friend. I heard she was ill and I was worried so I came to see her. And a woman told me she'd take me to see my friend after she finished some business so she asked me to wait here."

Laris fidgeted with the sleeve of her pink sweater nervously. There was something about this woman that she didn't like, though just looking at her face was enough to let anyone know she was an unpleasant person. It was her aura… Laris could sense something dark and sadistic in this woman and it made Laris' skin crawl.

The squat woman glanced at the door on Laris' left and scowled. "So you're waiting for Minerva," she muttered to herself. And then she proceeded to march past her and threw open the doors without knocking.

"Dolores!" exclaimed Minerva in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, well you see I was wondering…" Dolores' girly, fake voice was silenced as the door swung shut behind her and Laris was left to stand in the hall with the hunchbacked man for company. He was eying Bane with distain and mumbling to himself.

"Dragged in a load of mud, no doubt… gonna take me hours to scrub all that off, good for nothing mutt…"

Bane growled at the mortal. Laris sensed the wolf was going to pounce if the human said one more insulting word about him. She hastily wove a binding ward with one hand behind her back to keep the spirit animal in place. Bane glared up at her as he tried to break free but Laris' ward was too strong for him. The animal eventually gave up and sat obediently at her side, though he still bared his teeth at the human threateningly.

After several long minutes, the door was finally thrown open and the three boys trudged out looking devastated. The look on their face seemed to indicate they had just been told they were sentenced to death or something of that gravity. Behind them came Dolores, who looked eerily pleased with herself, and Minerva who just looked troubled about everything.

"I hope you see now, Minerva, that these boys need to be taught a lesson so that this can never happen again," said Dolores. "I see you have other matters to attend to so I will bid you good day."

"Yes, have a good day too, Dolores," bit out Minerva in a stiff tone. When Dolores and the hunchbacked man were gone, the woman turned to Laris with a weary sigh. "You're here to see Miss Risika, correct?"

Laris blinked in confusion. "Who?"

"Miss Risika. Morgan Risika? You're friend?"

"Oh… right. Morgan." Laris pasted a smile on her face even as inwardly she cringed, heart twisting in guilt.

Laris had not known Morgan's last name was Risika. Personal information like family surnames was a guarded secret for each individual Sorcery. Morgan did not know Laris' last name and Laris shouldn't have learned Morgan's without the girl telling Laris herself. Laris felt like she'd betrayed her best friend and couldn't help feeling there was now a stain in their relationship. Something Morgan kept so guarded a secret had been revealed to Laris without the girl knowing was completely unforgivable!

_I have to beg for Morgan's forgiveness. This is unacceptable!_

Even if Minerva didn't know this, it was inexcusable. Laris was overcome with a need to get on her knees and plead for Morgan's forgiveness.

"Could you take me to her, please?" asked Laris, urgently.

Minerva nodded. "The Hospital Wing is this way."

The woman led them back to the marble staircase and up two more flights of stairs until they were on the third floor. As they climbed, they'd received curious looks from many of the students passing by. Most were staring at Bane since they've obviously never seen a wolf indoors before. But some people were also giving Laris curious looks and she supposed that she too stood out. While everyone here was dressed in black or dark robes, Laris was wearing a bright pink sweater with white jeans and a peach sash that acted like a belt around her waist. If anything, Laris felt she stood out even more than Bane did simply because his dark fur allowed him to blend in better with this dreary stone castle.

"Am I correct to assume you are the Healer Miss Risika personally requested?" asked Minerva over her shoulder.

Laris automatically flinched upon hearing Morgan's last name again but managed to keep her discomfort from showing in her voice. "Yes, I received word that she was ill yesterday and immediately made preparations to depart." Though she would have gotten her sooner if _someone_ hadn't thrown a fit and almost chained her to the ground in objection.

Honestly, Matthew needed to have a little more faith in her. She wasn't completely defenseless on her own and she wasn't a fool. She knew it was a big risk going off-world alone and she would have welcomed his company, but Isis had insisted that two Sorcery in one world at the same time was risky enough. Anymore and they were likely to draw too much unwanted attention to themselves so Matthew had been ordered to stay at home while Laris went alone. Luckily Ransho had been able to persuade Isis to allow Bane to accompany Laris in Matthew's stead. That had somewhat appeased her disgruntled friend.

_He's just worried about you, Laris. He really cares for you,_ said Bane telepathically.

_I know… but sometimes I think he's just a little too protective. It's smothering me and often unbearable._

"Here we are," said Minerva, stopping in front of a pair of round double doors. She pushed open the doors and stood back to allow them to enter first.

The Hospital Wing was enormous, like the castle. Laris estimated that there were thirty hospital beds set up but she suspected that they could fit another twenty more if need be. There was a door on their right which immediately burst open and a scowling women dressed in red robes with a white apron over it appeared. She looked like she was about to tell them off when she spotted Minerva behind them.

"Minerva? What's going on here?"

"Afternoon, Poppy. These are the guests Miss Risika requested. They're here to attend to her," explained Minerva.

Poppy turned and seemed to be studying both Laris and Bane – she even spent a few seconds assessing Leita. Her lips then thinned into a disapproving frown. "They send a _child_ to heal her? What do they take me for, a novice?"

Out of courtesy, Laris stepped forward and bowed. "Forgive my intrusion, ma'am. I mean no offense by coming here. I only wish to heal my sick friend. My name is Laris and I would greatly appreciate any help you can give me."

"I'm the school nurse here and you may call me Madame Pomfrey," she said, still scowling. "I don't know what more you can do for the girl. She is an unusual case. Every treatment I give her results in more unusual symptoms and illnesses. She's been in my care for almost a full month now."

Laris paled as anxiety took over. If Morgan had been sick for that long, why didn't Dumbledore contact the Sorcery sooner?

"Please, allow me to see her," said Laris.

"This way." Madame Pomfrey turned and led them down the rows of beds until they reached the only occupied one at the far back, next to the window. "I've decided to keep her unconscious for the time being since that is when her condition is the most stable."

"Morgan!" Laris rushed to her friend's bedside. It had been a little over a month since Laris last seen her and the difference was heart-stopping. Morgan's skin was chalky white and she'd lost a lot of weight. She was barely skin and bones. It was deathly frightening how fast Morgan's health had deteriorated.

"How long has she been like this?" asked Laris to Madame Pomfrey. "How long has she been in this condition?"

"Nearly a fortnight now –"

"Then why did you wait so long to contact me?" asked Laris, rounding on the woman. "I would have been here in an instant. How could you just leave her like this? Didn't she ever ask for the aid of one of our Healers?"

"Well yes but the Headmaster felt that we could come up with something –"

"And did you?" Laris watched as the mortal nurse opened and closed her mouth, gaping like a fish while remaining speechless. "Obviously not! Dumbledore as a lot to answer for. This is unacceptable! Where is he?"

"In his office," replied Minerva in an even tone. "If you like I will escort you to him."

"I don't have the time for that! Morgan's health comes first." And with that, Laris began unpacking her messenger back, pulling out her crystal blue scry stone along with a small leather pouch. She then set to work analyzing Morgan's condition using her scry stone. By focusing her mind on Morgan with the scry stone as a medium, she was able to send her mind into Morgan's body and slowly try to figure out what was wrong with her friend.

After several long minutes of intensive scrying, Laris finally returned to her own body and set down her scry stone on the nightstand.

_Well?_ asked Bane. _What's wrong with her?_

_There's a lot of internal damage. She's got tons of foreign chemicals in her systems – many acting like poison and slowly eating away at her organs._

_But how did someone manage to slip her poison? You're all trained in how to detect them_, said Bane.

_That's what's worrying me… the nurse did say that they've been using different types of treatments on her… maybe all those potions mixed together inside her is the reason she's in such critical condition._

"I need a list of all the potions you have given her," said Laris while she began rummaging through her bag, pulling out more bottles and leather pouches. "I need a detail description of each one, including the ingredients and how they were made."

Madame Pomfrey seemed outraged at being ordered around and looked to Minerva for support but the woman just shook her head.

"Do it, Poppy."

The nurse scowled and stormed off, slamming the door of her office behind her.

Minerva sighed and turned to Laris, who had started to mix some herbs together in a ceramic bowl. "How is she?" asked the woman.

"Whatever you mortals gave her, it's killing her. You should have contacted me immediately when she fell ill, especially when the first of your potions didn't work," said Laris angrily. "Our bodies are not the same as yours. Dumbledore should have known that by now. The fact that our lifespan is much longer than yours should have given you the impression that we are different beings."

"I am sure the Headmaster had his reasons."

"He may have his reasons but that doesn't mean they're good reasons," muttered Laris as she then poured some water from a flask into the bowl and mixed the ground-up herbs with the water.

"May I ask what it is you're making?"

"This is just a simple strengthening brew. Her body's weak from the poisons. This will help her fight them off," said Laris. She then reached into the first pouch she had pulled out and plucked out a green flower. The blossom had only three petals and the center was brilliantly yellow. Laris crushed the flower in her hand and lifted Morgan's head up just enough so that Laris could place her open hand under the girl's nose.

The unconscious girl breathed in the scent and slowly her eyes fluttered open.

"L…Laris?" It pained Laris to hear her usually energetic friend sound so weak and hoarse. Her green eyes were dull and glazed. Pain and exhaustion reflected from those pupils and it only fueled Laris' determination to heal her friend.

"Hey, Morgan. How are you feeling?" asked Laris softly.

"I've had… better mornings," she muttered.

Laris smiled and gently laid Morgan's head back down on the bed. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'll put you back together again and then I'm going to give these mortals a piece of my mind."

Morgan cracked a weak smile. "Poor mortals… Even Matthew doesn't question you when you're riled." She then closed her eyes and sighed in exhaustion. "I'm in your hands, Laris."

Laris nodded. "I'll take care of you. You'll be on your feet in no time."

Morgan snorted, eyes still closed. "I don't know how long I've been here but it must have been a while. I'm not looking forward to catching up on my school work so take your time, Laris."

"But if you keep putting off your school work you'll have even more work to do – plus there's Isis' assignment…" mused Laris.

Morgan groaned. "Don't remind me…"

The clicking of heels on stone floor signaled nurse's return. "Here's the list of potions I've given Miss Risika," said Madame Pomfrey and she practically slammed the small notebook on the nightstand. The woman was still steaming at having her authority as a Healer usurped by Laris. Normally, Laris didn't like making others upset with her but Morgan's life was in danger. She didn't have time to play nice with the mortals.

"Thank you. I'll call you if I need anything else," said Laris coolly and promptly began scanning the list of potions and their ingredients, analyzing what might be the cause of Morgan's condition. But the list was over ten pages long – front and back.

Laris sighed as she realized she had her work cut out for her.

_Looks like I'm going to be here a while…_


End file.
